


Tower of Biff

by BawssJesse



Category: If you are a fan of THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA then you are a fan of Biff, 신의 탑 | Tower of God
Genre: American - Freeform, Funny, New York Times Bestseller, Newbury Medal Award, Other, Pulitzer Prize, incredible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 52,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawssJesse/pseuds/BawssJesse
Summary: Biff Biggums, a middle-aged trucker with a heart of gold, a will of steel, and a stomach of lead, finds himself climbing a merciless tower with a talking eagle and the full force of Freedom behind him.





	1. Part 1: Biff and the Rabbit Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff finds himself in a strange temple in front of a strange rabbit

        “What do you desire? Money and wealth? Honor and pride? Authority and power? Revenge? Or something that transcends all of them”

“Well, first of all, I’d like my big rig back.”

        All it ever took to make Biff Biggums happy was his 18-wheeler, a can of Bud Light, and the open road. Not this temple. Not this rabbit demon spouting off bullshit about desires. All he desired was his truck. He had a load of refrigerators due in 5 hours at the Amazon Warehouse off I-95, and if he didn’t make that delivery on time his commissioner would give him hell. Again. At least he still had his beer.

        “Everything you desire… is in here.” The rabbit hesitated. Biff squinted, his brow furrowing. Was this thing serious? It spoke with authority, it carried some kind of scepter, but… had it even heard of a big rig before? This must be some trick. He might not have had a sliver of an idea of where he was, but he sure as hell knew where he had to be by nine tonight.

        “Well, can you show me? I’ve gotta make my delivery in five hours, man, I really don’t have time to play around.” He moved closer, wary but assertive. He knew in times like these, it was important to establish dominance.

        “Then you’d better get climbing quickly,” The rabbit replied, “The top of this tower is a long way away, child.” The rabbit lost no ground. Honestly, Biff respected it. Two heads taller than this thing and it still had the balls to call him a child. But he had no time for respect. I-95 was an absolute bitch during rush hour. Finishing off his can of bud light, he replied:

        “Now you listen here, ya god damn rabbit bastard,” He pointed his finger straight into its face, “I don’t have time to play around climbing towers or any of that hocus-pocus. I’m on a real tight schedule, and you’re gonna’ take me to my big rig or else I’m gonna’ kick your ass! I got fifty refrigerators in that truck and let me tell you, when Jeff Bezos checks on his warehouse and wonders where those fridges are, he’s not just gonna’ fire me, he’s gonna’ find you and hang you by your god damn rabbit balls!” Biff didn’t even realize how loud he’d gotten until he wiped the sweat off his forehead. His face was so red you could hardly tell him apart from one of his grandma’s beetroots. He could see the rabbit’s smooth skin practically glisten from little drops of spit; the fact that it didn’t react caused great unease.

        “Well then,” the rabbit’s head looked up at him, but Biff couldn’t tell whether he was staring into its eyes or its mouth, “If you’re in such a hurry, then maybe I’ll show you the way after all!” The rabbit lifted his scepter, and with a quick wave and twirl, the 240-pound trucker was lifted effortlessly into the air.

        “What the hell are you doing? Put me down, god damn it!” Biff shouted. But his tormentor had stopped listening. It just stared at him, wondering. This fatass change the fate of the tower? Not a chance in hell. As he floated there, powerless to the whims of this spry little guardian, it couldn’t help but feel as if the tower had finally chosen wrong. But he had a duty. And God himself forbid he disobeyed. Saving itself from a second round of spit and vulgar words, the guardian chose to skip the test, flinging the trucker as hard as it could through the gateway.

        “You better remember me,” the big oaf glared at him, somehow enduring the tremendous force of the throw, probably by accepting his own inertia, “My name is Biff Biggums, and one day I’m gonna’ kick your ass! And when I do, you better have my big rig waitin’!” Biff could hardly finish his declaration before crashing through the gateway. It didn’t know what a big rig was, but from what it gathered, it just hoped the damn thing ran him over someday soon.

        Barely an hour later, a familiar, omnipotent voice rang through the great hall on the first floor: “What do you think of him, Headon?”

       “Who?” The rabbit asked, “The irregular?”

        “Yes,” it reverberated throughout the chamber. If Headon had eardrums, they would have burst, “The Twenty Fifth Baam.”

        “... That was the Twenty-Fifth Biff.”

        “Oh shit.”


	2. Part 2: Biff and the Fight Against Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff makes it to the second floor and fights a flying foe.

        Biff opened his eyes, staring up at the clear blue sky. For a second, the world seemed still. Then it all came rushing back: The rabbit, was that really just a dream? He could remember everything so clearly. And even if it was, it would be the first dream he’d had in a long time. He remembered the way the rabbit flung him out effortlessly. He sneered at the embarrassment. He remembered the road and his truck… but maybe he should lie down just a little longer. The sky was almost too blue, the heat beaming down on him just right. He could feel blades of grass brushing against him in a breeze. It was too perfect.

        He sat upwards quickly and mechanically, surprisingly spry for his size. It really was too perfect. Nothing but fields as far as the eye could see, not a soul in sight but himself. It seemed as if this dream was far from over. Biff stood up, tightened his belt, and began to wander in search of any sort of civilization… or at least another beer.

        “Hello, regulars!” A voice boomed throughout the field, “This is your test administrator. Congratulations on being chosen to climb the tower!” Climbing the tower? That’s what the rabbit said, wasn’t it? And how could he understand him? Even though he knew exactly what the administrator was saying, it sure as hell wasn’t English. Just then, Biff noticed the black sphere hovering beside him.

        “What the hell is this?” He wondered, staring at the administrative message written on its surface. All it showed was: Test begins in – 60. A timer. Biff was indignant, but uneasy. Even if this was a dream, he wasn’t in control. If he only had his truck, he could drive out of here. But where would he go? For all he knew, this field continued on forever. The delivery was hopeless. He wouldn’t get fired; his boss would have one hell of a time getting another trucker, but his wife wouldn’t go so easy on him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to ponder all the ways his wife would kick his ass. Sure enough, the voice was back 60 seconds later:

        “The second floor, the floor of tests, begins now! The only rule is: Survive!” Survive?! What the hell was that supposed to mean? He was in a field of grass, there was no danger nearby. Was something dangerous lurking in this field? And what were regulars? He was clearly in the test, was the administrator talking to him? Biff tightened his stance and put his fists up, not knowing where whatever was after him would strike from. He always thought he could have joined the UFC if he really wanted to, based on his track record in his previous bar fights. He’d survive alright, even if it meant cracking a few skulls.

        The next moments were a blur. Out of the horizon soared a giant bird, much like the bald eagle, looming over the sky in search of prey. Biff should have run for cover, but being so far from home and knowing nothing of when (or how) he would return, he couldn’t help but think of America: Watching it soar freely in the sky, free from all oppression as he once did in his truck on the open road. When would he be able to soar like that again? He continued to gaze at its majesty, its glorious wings outstretched ready to embrace him in democracy, it’s beak wide open, caw-ing the caw of civil liberties, it’s talo- wait a goddamn minute, it was coming right for him! He was distracted for too long: He jumped out of the way, but not long enough to avoid a nasty cut on his arm from its talons. Biff clutched his arm and glared, betrayed, at his new enemy.

        “What the hell is going on?!” He shouted, not even towards the bird but to all of his surroundings. First a giant rabbit, now a giant eagle. Was every animal in this place trying to kill him? If he didn’t know any better, he’d believe he had ended up in Australia.

        “Heh, not bad, kid. You made me use ten percent of my power. You’re faster than I thought,” The eagle cocked his head to the side, nearly backwards, towards Biff. It ruffled its feathers aggressively, “But your luck ends here. I, James Washington, am the only one qualified to make it all the way up the tower.” In a flash, the oddly Japanese bald eagle pivoted on its talons and charged once again towards the overweight trucker. But even with impressive speed, Biff was prepared. Even if Washington was slightly bigger, Biff still saw an opportunity to seize victory. Crouching under the eagle at exactly the right moment, Biff sprang up under his belly, elbowing him in his fragile eagle ribs and knocking him into the sky once again. James was bewildered. How did such a fat, old man have so much power?

        “Damn,” Biff grimaced. Even he could see the irony in fighting such a patriotic opponent. And now that he was back in the sky, he was at a major disadvantage. Washington glared down at him from above.

        “It seems I’ve found a worthy opponent to test my skills on. Master, I’ll make you proud.” James Washington proceeded to make indistinguishable motions with his wing arms as if they were blades, despite clearly being soft feathers. Biff could hardly believe he was sober. Not only was it a giant talking eagle, it was a giant edgy talking eagle. It was at that moment Biff knew this was not the bald eagle he had come to know and respect. He wouldn’t go easy on it anymore. As minutes seemed like hours, Biff and the eagle exchanged both battle cries and blows in flurries of punches, scratches, and body slams.

        “Alright, you listen here, Washington,” Biff exclaimed, “Where I come from, birds like you are a symbol of freedom and respect. I look up to birds that look like you. Hell, I’m looking up at you right now. But the way you talk, you sound like one of those god damn cartoon characters my nephew draws weird pictures of. I don’t like them, and I don’t like you! Now I’m gonna’ give you ten seconds to get out of here before I kick your ass! One! Two! Thr-” Biff had hardly begun counting, clearly enamored with his own monologue, when he received a (perhaps well-deserved) dive bomb to the gut. The impact sent him flying at least twenty feet backwards.

        “You’re still alive?” The bird walked over to him, “Heh, even at thirty percent of my power. You’re pretty good.” James Washington looked up at the sky, nostalgic for a time before. An easier time, when he was but a hatchling. But those days were long gone. His wings had spread, and he had become a true bird of prey.  “Forgive me, master. I’ll have to go all out… Just this once!” Soon, the fat man before him would be nothing but a hollow husk. He reared his head to get one good look at his first stepping stone up the tower. He was breathing heavily. There was no energy left for a monologue. He leaned his smooth, yellow beak in closer, as if to whisper “Good night, sweet prince,” or “Farewell, my worthy opponent.”

        But he didn’t get the chance. Another burst of energy had consumed Biff Biggums, who grabbed James by his beak. And as a man who spent the better half of his life gripping a steering wheel, he wasn’t one to let go so easily. Poor, inflexible James didn’t have the versatility to claw at him with his talons. He tried to fly, but Biff’s weight left him without the strength to get more than a hop off the ground. Was this the end for him? Would he die here after just entering the tower, without even getting to use his ultimate forbidden technique? What would his master think? His family, all watching him from above?

        “No.”  His struggles ceased, and in that moment of stillness, James Washington found true strength. In his eyes gleamed the fire of hope and determination, and as his overweight opponent prepared to land the final blow in the midst of a flurry of punches, James rolled over one last time and with a mighty peck, subdued his opponent. He then grabbed Biff with his talons and prepared for his ultimate attack. As Biff was carried higher and higher, he realized the barren field he had woken up in was now completely alive, with fifty, no, a hundred other humans and monsters fighting and competing. And as he gazed upon more and more lifeless bodies in the grass and on the hills, he understood what it really meant to survive here. And out in the distance, atop a mountain of corpses, he gazed in wonder upon a mysterious figure smiling back at him with glee.

        “Two for the price of one,” the figure said in a singsong soprano, its arm raised as if extending a hand towards the trucker and the bird. Biff looked back in confusion, powerless to help himself. Was James carrying him towards the sun? All he had to do was let go, and Biff’s dream would surely come to an end. Part of him wanted it to, yet the rest of his consciousness screamed out in horror knowing this was not the case. But the bird of prey did not get the satisfaction. The figure’s arm outstretched, a flash of light extended from the palm and shot towards an unaware James, hitting him in the wing. Caught by surprise, James squawked out in pain and released Biff from his grip. Unfortunately, Biff was not so heavy that he could instead pull the ground to him, but instead began a deadly descent. He wanted to think of his wife, and of waking up. But all he could think of was the road. It might not have even been a day, but that was all he missed.

        As he fell, a voice came from the pocket. “Congratulations!” It was the voice from earlier that had boomed throughout the sky. “You have survived, and are perhaps even worthy of climbing the rest of the tower! Now rest, weary regulars, for today God has deemed you worthy of victory!”

        “Not me…” Biff thought, as he hurdled towards the ground, unaware of the light engulfing his body.


	3. Part 3: Biff and the New Recruits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff becomes acquainted with the other regulars

        When you’re falling to your death, you expect a quick _crack_ or _crunch_ to be the end of it; The flash of life before your eyes, a twinge of pain for a brief second, then a cut to black. But for Biff, it was different. Biff couldn’t feel anything at all: The air he was rushing through, the impact on the dirt, none of it. All he saw was white, and he heard a million conversations, howls, and scoffs at once. He checked to find some sense of self, and discovered he could still feel himself twitch and move. He was alive. He moseyed up, clutching his haid to make sense of it all. Where the hell was he now? The field had been replaced by what looked like an oversized waiting room, with many of the people and things he had seen fighting before. Wait, did that mean...

        Biff frantically turned around, paranoid. “ _Where is that god damn eagle_ ,” he thought. Sure enough, lying on the ground not ten feet away from him was James, yet to regain consciousness from the blow he took earlier from that hooded figure. Biff hunched over to check on his foe: _Still breathing_. Not if Biff had anything to say about it. He wouldn’t let Big Bird get the drop on him again. He raised his fist, determined to finish the job and find the way out of this mess, but before he could land the blow, a firm grip caught his arm.

        “No fighting outside of the testing area, man! You don’t want the administrator to catch you, do you?” Biff turned his head around, indignant.

        “This bastard just tried to kill me! What the hell else am I supposed to do?” What else would he have done? Wait for James to wake up and seek him out again? But the interloper refused to release his hand.

        “That was just part of the test! We were all supposed to fight each other! But that test is over now. Anyone caught fighting will be punished by the administrator” He objected, turning the rest of Biff around towards him. He was stronger than he looked. Not weak by any means, but a slimmer figure, and at least half a head shorter than Biff. His boyish facial features and a blonde school-shooter haircut belied a certain energy in his golden eyes… well, maybe that second one added to it. Who knows.

        “The test… is over? What test? What the hell is any of this? Where are we now?” Biff was tired of being jerked around. He hadn’t been so confused since his first visit to the DMV. He wanted to get revenge on that bird, but more than anything he wanted answers. That rabbit sure as hell didn’t take him back to the real world.

        “Another bad case of PTSD on the second floor,” the man sighed, “You hear about it all the time with the more peaceful regulars: You’re not used to killing in the outer tower, you don’t know how bad it’s gonna’ be, and then it just hits you all at once. You hate to see it.” Outer tower? What was the Outer Tower? Just more useless questions that wouldn’t bring him any closer to getting out of this hellhole.

        “You’re in the inner tower now. You’ve been chosen for a chance to climb to the top of the entire tower and become a ranker, remember? You made it past the first test… no one’s gonna’ try and kill you anymore here.” _Probably not_ , he thought. Not on this floor, at least. There would be plenty of chances down the line, but he hoped his new acquaintance would be a bit better prepared. “We’ve all been training for years for this chance. Don’t waste yours. And don’t end that bird’s so quickly, either.” Biff sensed a strange discrepancy between his new friend’s pacifism and how eager the bird was to kill him.

        “So this is the tower?” Biff said, taking another look around? He was beginning to regain his composure. He and his new friend moseyed over to the chairs and sat down to regain their (mostly his own) energy. “So then… what’s the way out?” Biff hunched over. He was sane again, but tired.

        “The way out?” His friend asked, “Well… I guess you could just quit climbing and go back to the outer tower… A lot of regulars do it. But why would you want to give up that easily?” Even if the tower was full of regulars and rankers alike, getting chosen as a regular was still a rare chance. He couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to abandon the climb in an event besides death. Not after coming this far. “Why did you decide to climb in the first place?”

        “Kid, I hate to tell you this, but I never wanted to climb this tower. I don’t even really know what this place is. I was just driving on the road one second, and the next I was in here, in some temple shit. All I want is to get back to my truck and go home to my wife.” Biff sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to make friends. He needed a beer. Looking at this kid, with his eastern-looking robe on, he wondered if beer even existed in this strange world. Shit, it had to. “What’s your name, kid?” He asked.

        “I’m Goslav Yu. Call me Slav.” This had to be a joke. “What’s yours?”

        “Biff Biggums.” He put his hand out for a shake.

        “I don’t know how you got here, Biff.” Slav grabbed his hand, “But unless you quit and go back to the Outer Tower, you’re in for the long haul. The same goes for me. But I won’t quit. Something important is waiting for me at the top. And I’m sure the same is true for you. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” As crazy as it seems, hearing that gave Biff just the slightest bit of reassurance.

        “Regulars!” A voice declared, “Congratulations on passing the first test on the Floor of Tests!” The room immediately fell silent, conquered by an atmosphere of wonder and respect. The voice came from yet another unassuming man, wearing a white uniform contrasting his darker skin. “I’m your administrator, Quant Blitz. You could say I’m like… the God of this floor.” He slicked his hair back.

        “ _Another arrogant son of a bitch_ ,” Biff thought to himself. But he did make Biff uneasy. Something deep inside told Biff that such confidence did not go unearned.

        “Yes, that’s right, I’m a ranker.” Quant grinned, chewing the scenery. “You know, it’s not easy getting to the top of the tower. Out of all the regulars in my group, I was the only one who did it! I guess I’m a bit of a celebrity now… But don’t worry, Evankhell won’t let me go too hard on you guys this time!” He laughed, patting a burly regular on the back. Despite being twice Quant’s size, he shrank back. Why was everyone so intimidated by this man? He wasn’t even taking this seriously. He finally noticed the bird, still out cold on the ground.

        “Hey,” Quant peered over at James, “Wake up, birdman. The test is over.” The ranker bent over and slapped him a little. James opened his eyes, blurry and lost in memories, then sprang up and readied himself for another fight.

        “You fat man, I’ll make mincemeat out of you!” James instinctually attacked, unaware of the target in front of him. But Quant caught his wing.

        “Now, now.” He said, smugly, “I said no fighting after the test is finished. It’s lunchtime! Go, my pretty regulars! Rejoice and gather your strength! Your next test awaits you.” At this point, even most of the other regulars had stopped taking him seriously. He was powerful, but you’d never guess he was an administrator. James Washington, however, was completely in awe. How could he have caught his razor wing attack? Was this the power of a ranker? His master had told him that strong opponents lie ahead, but a man like this was barely even human anymore. “Hey, bird kid. Most of you guys die early. Be sure not to end up like the rest of them.” James, dejected, sat back down for a long rumination.

        “ _Thank God_ ,” Biff thought as he saw the relatively normal selection of food. There was good old, soda, fries, salads, and even steak! Whether or not it came from cows was yet to be seen, but he figured if there were eagles in this world, there were bound to be cows as well. And even better..

        “Hey, do you guys have any whiskey?” He asked the rather rotund server behind the counter. He had no idea if it could reply; all he could see were eight eyes and zero other facial features of any kind. “Or Vodka? Or Rum? Or even just beer? Any alcohol, really.” Biff was desperate at this point. There was no way he’d be able to go on without it in this crazy world.

        “Sorry,” The creature replied, “But the administrator said no drinking like that until the rest of today’s tests are cleared. You can have some when it’s done.” This was unacceptable. This thing had no idea what he had been through. If he could just make it understand, that thing would let him drink himself to death.

        “Look, man. I’ve had a rough day. I’m definitely late on my delivery, my wife has no idea that I’m in here, and God damn it, I need a drink! Can’t you just make one little exception?” But the poly-eyed creature refused to cooperate, instead serving him an overcooked steak. Biff slinked over to a table with Slav, defeated. But before he could ask Slav why _he_ was here and just what the hell went on in this tower, a familiar face sat across from him.

        “I didn’t think you’d make it this far. Seems you’re a worthy opponent, indeed.” James Washington tried to sneer, but couldn’t help betraying a slight respect.

        “Get your head out of your ass, you god damn bird. I don’t have the energy - or the alcohol - for this shit. Get lost.” Biff replied. Slav sighed.

       “Just get through this next test, and we can drink to our success all we want.” Slav looked down, wondering what the next test would be. He hoped it wouldn’t be anything as hard as the first one. If he twitched, nobody saw. “The time for fighting is over.”

        Biff clenched his fists. He wanted to punch this bird in the beak and knock him out for good this time. But against every impulse, he refrained. Something told him he shouldn’t get caught doing something like that. Maybe later he’d get another chance. But for now, all he could do was eat with him.

        “So, my worthy opponent,” _Biff_ , he corrected him. “Biff, what part of the outer tower are you from? You’ve trained well.”

        “I’m from South Carolina.” He replied.

        “What floor is that on? What’s the shinsoo density like?” asked the bird. Floor? Shinsoo? South Carolina was a state. The most glorious state, aside from maybe Texas, filled with beautiful beaches and roadways.

        “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I’ve never heard of no Shin Sue in my life. It’s not on any floor. I don’t even know what or where this damn place is.”

        “You’ve never heard… of Shinsoo? Shinsoo is everything here in the tower!” Slav’s eyes lit up for a moment. This was interesting. It’s not every day you meet someone who hasn’t even heard of the tower before. Either he was from a very remote region, or…

        “Hah, you don’t know what Shinsoo is? So maybe you’re just lucky, then.” James scoffed as he struggled to use chopsticks with his wing-hands. Biff would have been furious if not for such a pathetic sight. Clearly he was full of it. He just kept eating his charred meat. Taking pity on him, Slav explained all about Shinsoo and the structure of the tower, with James chiming in with an undeserved snide remark every minute or so.

        But now, knowing it existed in this world as well, only one thought ran through Biff’s mind: He had to get that beer.


	4. Part 4: Biff and the Quest for Beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff really wants that Alcohol

        “Ohhh regulaaaaars…” Quant instantaneously appeared before them in the cafeteria. Biff couldn’t tell if he had teleported or he was just that fast. Was this the power of Shinsoo? Biff looked down at his gut, wondering if he’d ever be able to move like that. Just this once, surrounded by such fit people, Biff felt a little insecure about his belly. Oh well. If anything, he’d still be able to smack up most of these kids from inertia alone. “Your next test is starting in half an hour, so get back to the waiting room! I can’t wait to see what some of you are made of.” Quant chuckled to himself and blitzed out as quickly as he had blitzed in. A round of groans was heard amongst the regulars.

        “I wonder what they have in store for us,” Inquired Slav. Biff thought he heard a hint of anxiety in his voice, but maybe he was just projecting his own. James looked uneasy, too. He clearly didn’t expect to have this much competition. After all, he couldn’t even defeat the first regular he came across.

        “I don’t know, but I need to lighten up. I haven’t taken any tests in a real long time,” Biff got up and gave his handlebar mustache a pensive stroke. He peered around the cafeteria. A portion of the regulars had already left, and most of the others would be getting up to leave soon. Only the server would remain, but even he couldn’t watch the room forever. After lunchtime was over, he’d have to take a smoke break or restock the Quanta-Cola machines.

        “Come on, let’s go. We should see what the test is about.” Slav got up.

        “Wait.” Biff stopped him. “Let’s stay here just a bit longer. It’s peaceful.” They waited for five minutes, but nothing was said. Slav’s eyes shifted around periodically. James started to open his beak a couple of times, but thought that maybe, just this once, there was nothing to be said. Meanwhile, Biff was balls-deep in a staring match with the poly-eyed server. The damn thing wouldn’t budge. Biff looked around for an open door, anything that led back into the kitchen and around the creature. The only thing he could see was an air vent. Or, well, _a Shinsoo vent or some shit now_ , he guessed. If he really tried… he could fit. He had to. It really might be big enough, but… it was at least ten feet up. Slav sighed, a lock of his blonde hair getting blown out of the way.

        “Look, everyone is gone and the test is starting soon. We don’t want to be late, believe me.” Slav got up again, firmer. “Whatever you’re up to, meet me back there.” Slav walked away this time, but Biff didn’t reply. Even if he could say something to keep him here, he didn’t think it necessary. But silently, he groaned. Because the other regular, he did need. Now he _really_ wanted that beer.

        “Hey, Washington.” Biff said, deep and monotone.

        “What is it, fat man?” James replied in the same tone.

        “It’s Biff Biggums. Biff. Biggums. Now how many years you got on you?” He sneered.

        “Eighty three.” Eighty three? Bullshit! An eighty three year old would be in a wheelchair by now. An eighty three year old wouldn’t be able to dive bomb him. An eighty three year old wouldn’t be a _fucking bird…_ shit. There was no rhyme or reason to this place. Biff didn’t have the energy to dispute it.

        “You ever had a beer before?” He asked, conceding one battle but no less determined to win the next.

        “I have never heard of such a substance. Is it a kind of food?” James inquired, skeptical. Biff chuckled. _Eighty three my ass_.

        “I got a secret for you, James. Behind that guy, over in that kitchen lies a drink that’ll give you everything you need to pass that test. You and I are gonna’ get some of it. And then we won’t have to worry about any test.” Biff wasn’t lying. A couple beers and he’d be able to take all of this in stride.

        “What in the world are you talking about?” James jeered. “You mean getting drunk? You really are pathetic. I don’t know how someone like you got chosen to climb the tower, but you need to take this place more seriously. Otherwise, you’ll fail or die quickly. Most of us chose a worthier path when we decided to enter.” Biff would have loved to tell him exactly what he thought of worthiness and all that bullshit, but for the first time he sensed a real piece of substance. A small part of him was impressed. Even if he was just an arrogant eagle who was too big for his britches.

        “Look, James. Where I come from, there’s nothing a beer can’t solve. It calms the nerves. It gives you courage. I didn’t ask to be here. All I want is to get the hell out of this place. But if I’m stuck here until I climb to the top of this damn tower, I’m not gonna’ do it feeling like this. Sometimes, you gotta take the good life when you can get it. Otherwise you’re gonna’ get up there or whatever and wonder if it was all worth it in the first place. Now come on, it’ll help get your beak out of your ass.” James couldn’t believe his eagle ears. He had never heard someone speak so audaciously and hedonistically towards him in his eighty three years of life. _I’ll show him in the next test_ , he thought. Yet, he was intrigued. He wasn’t used to losing arguments. And why did Biff want James to have a beer? They weren’t friends by any terms. He looked at Biff, who was glancing again at the wall… ah. The vent.

       “Hey, old man.”

        “Biggums,” Biff muttered.

        “You just need me to fly you up there.” The secret was out.

       “You’d have to fly up there anyway if you wanted any.” But the battle had just begun.

        “Please. I’ve trained for years, I could sneak back there no problem. The poly-eye wouldn’t even feel the breeze as I flew by.” James couldn’t help himself, talking big again.

        “Hah, fat chance. You could barely take me on two hours ago. That guy can see from every angle if you went back there.” Biff knew he had the upper hand.

        “Well then maybe I’ll just fly up there myself and sneak through without you bringing down the entire vent.” A low blow, but not unfounded. There was no guarantee his fat ass wouldn’t be too heavy.

        “And if the eye freak sees you? Have fun trying to get out of that mess yourself. He’s twice your size, he’d knock you out flat.” It was true, and James knew it. The staff on the floor were more than qualified to deal with any rowdy regulars. But he wouldn’t give up yet.

        “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try dealing with him. I bet you didn’t know he’s much stronger than either of us. He’s not a ranker, but he’s well-trained. This is a job for a swift assassin like myself” If James was going down, he was bringing Biff down with him.

        “Swift assassin? That’s a good one. If you think you can get by him, why don’t you prove it? Of course, you’ll have to take me with you to see.” It was time for the big guns.

        “I can unhook that vent without him even turning his head! Just you watch.” James chortled. He would prove his expertise to his newfound rival once and for all. In a flash, he zoomed over to the vent and, silently, unhooked it. Even Biff was impressed, James noticed the look in his eye. He had finally won. He quickly grabbed Biff by his talons and carried him up with a very different connotation and a proud grin on his beak.

        Biff chuckled. _Wait._ But it was too late. They were already crawling through the vent. The grin gradually left his beak and replaced itself with a scowl. _This was exactly what he wanted. They were in the vent, on the way to the beer. This entire battle was pretense. He had effortlessly changed the battlefield in order to win. He had thought they were fighting on the Hidden Floor, but his opponent was on the Hidden Hidden Floor the entire time._ Twice now, James had underestimated his opponent. It would not happen again.

       James was right about Biff, though. There was no way they wouldn’t grab the attention of the server with all the noise he was making. But it didn’t matter. After just a minute of crawling, they’d be past him in the back of the kitchen. From there, the beer couldn’t be that hard to find. Luckily, Biff wasn’t slow. This opportunity had given him a new burst of energy. And after only forty seconds of horrible, loud, clunky crawling through the vent, Biff and James found the exit. It was once again James’ time to shine. Biff, having the stronger sense for alcohol, obviously led the way in the meantime. The two plopped down with a light thud.

        “Which way now?” James whispered. He was nervous, there was no point in hiding it. For this petty rivalry, he was risking his tenure as a regular. At best, he’d be disqualified if he was caught. At worst, the server would tell Quant, who would tell Evankhell… James dared not think about that anymore.

        “Uh… follow me.” This kitchen was bigger than Biff thought it would be. But that was a good thing. The bigger the kitchen, the bigger the stash waiting for him. And he would find it. If he could find anything, it was drinks. Since he was fifteen, he’d been the one responsible for getting drinks for his friends. Now he was getting it for his enemies. He guided James through a couple of rooms, with no sign of the poly-eyed server anywhere nearby. Luckily, even in this tower his intuition still worked. He was getting close. They eventually came upon a cold, metal door.

        “Well, either we just found the rest of your people,” Biff hoped to God that they still ate chicken here, but blushed a bit when he saw James was not amused. A joke in poor taste, evidently, “Or this is it.” He opened the door, either to disappointment or Valhalla… and found the latter. Not beer, but sake. Gallons and gallons of sake.

        “Liters and liters of Sake!” James could hardly believe it.

 _Liters_ , thought Biff. They used _metric_. Now he really needed a drink. He wandered inside and picked up a jug. He marveled at it, curious as to how it would taste. Admittedly, he had never had Sake before, but Biff always fancied himself a man of culture. He ate more Ramen than anyone he knew.

       “Hey, you’re not supposed to be back here.” Time froze. Neither Biff nor James had time to turn around. _Damn it, Bird_ , Biff thought. _You were supposed to keep watch!_ In a quick burst of telepathy, both man and bird became one to think a collective “ _SHIT._ ” Neither one would turn around. They had no idea how to react. The next millisecond felt like hours. Both Biff and James spent it contemplating every possible move they could make. But James knew it was hopeless. Even so…

        James looked toward Biff as if to say, “Charge him. He can see every angle, but if his focus is on you, I can slip behind and strike him while he’s stunned. You’re his size, you might be able to make the impact.” Biff understood perfectly. He turned around and, with a cry, immediately started running towards the server. He was sorry, but there was no other way. James flew above and out of sight, prepared to land a second blow.

        There was a flash. Before both Biff and James could strike. In an instant, the server closed his eyes and fell to the ground. Neither man nor bird could comprehend what had just transpired. But on the other side of the unconscious staff member, a sweaty, panting blonde could hardly believe what he had done for a pair of regulars he had only just met, and who he was now certain would fail. They looked at him blankly.

        “What… what the hell am I doing…” he sighed. One thing was for sure.

 

        They all needed a drink.


	5. Part 5: Biff, the Beer, and the Barrier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff delivers the American Dream in his next test

        After just fifteen minutes, Biff Biggums had consumed approximately half his body weight in Sake. “It’s okay,” he said, “I’m a heavyweight.” James, meanwhile, was slowly downing his own bottle. Biff couldn’t help but thank God on this glorious occasion: Even in the tower, they still had good booze. Given what he’d been through today, it was perhaps the best he’d ever had. Even Slav was nursing a handle.

        Biff learned a lot in those fifteen minutes: Of the ranker that rescued James, and how he was climbing the tower so he could prove himself and marry her. He didn’t know how they’d be able to consummate it, but that was a whole other tower he’d have to climb himself. Biff told him about his own wife, and how they met at the Hooters near Ohio State. “You’d never believe it now, but when we were young, she was something else,” he boasted to James. “I’ve never seen a Zahard princess, but I can bet she ain’t any prettier than my old Darlene.” Biff sighed. Would he ever see her again? He wasn’t anywhere close to the way out of this place. In any case, he had to stay faithful… right? Suddenly, James scooted close, putting his wing around him. He must have been hammered if he could break character like this.

       “If you can make it to the top of the tower, I’m sure you’ll see her again.” James said in earnest. Slav, kneeling over in the corner, rested his cheek on his hand with a slight smile.

        “So Slav, what are you in here for?” Biff smiled, then hiccuped. Hopefully that next test wasn’t for a little while. Slav looked downward, or perhaps inward.

        “There’s no girl, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smirked. “I’m climbing for another reason. Something a little more attainable.” He shut his eyes and chuckled, rubbing his neck. “I guess I just… want some things to change.” He took a rather large swig of the Sake. They could tell it was the good stuff because it wasn’t Quant brand. Just how many endorsements did that guy have, anyway?

       “Come on,” Slav said. “We should really get back to the testing area now. Hopefully we’re not already late.” He tried to get up, but fell right back on his butt. How much did he have to drink? He was sure it wasn’t that much…

       “Heheh, that must have been some pretty dense shinsoo sake, huh?” Biff chuckled, but when he himself tried to stand up, he was met with the same fate. “Oh shit.” James laughed.

       “I could tell you two were lightweights. Looks like I’m the only one worthy of climbing here.” James flapped his wings to give himself some extra lift, but ended up flying right into the ceiling. Biff and Slav broke down laughing.

        Biff finally recovered first, getting to his feet with a couple of rough stomps to plant himself. “Alright, y’all. Let’s get back before someone catches us. We’ll make asses of ourselves alright, but whatever.” Biff moseyed over to Slav and helped him up before going over to James, grabbing him by the wing. He hated to admit it, but that Sake got the better of him. “For fuck’s sake…” he thought as he slowly carried the two out of the kitchen. Hopefully the server wouldn’t remember what he saw… _Shinsoo and shit_ , _I dunno._ It took them three times as long as it did to get in, but they finally made it back to the cafeteria.

        “Well well, regulars. Running away from the test so soon?” Biff froze. _How long had he known? Was he waiting?_ Slav froze up. All he could do was pray to whatever God there was in this tower that he wouldn’t be automatically disqualified.

        “You know, I could just disqualify you and send you back right now. The way you treated our poor staff…” Quant chuckled and stepped in. Biff looked at him, wary. Slav was on the verge of tears.

        “It’s been a long day, man. My truck is God knows where without a driver, and I just needed a beer. Can you blame me?” Slav silently sobbed. This was the end, he knew it. James had already resigned himself to fate. For Biff to be so audacious, it was absolutely unheard of. But the merciful ranker merely placed a hand on Biff’s shoulder.

        “No, I guess not.” Quant sighed and looked down. Did he understand Biff’s plight? Slav held his breath. If they could still be redeemed… Quant looked back up at Biff with an unholy grimace. “But good luck on the next test. You all get to be my chosen regulars. Follow me.” Quant led them back to the lobby. Chosen regulars? They were already chosen. As Biff dragged his friends behind Quant, he wondered what bullshit test was in store. He really hoped it wasn’t a fight, or he’d be in real trouble in this state. After a short walk, they were back in the other room in front of all of the other regulars. In the back, a mysterious figure looked towards the mustachioed man and giggled.

        “What a fucking weirdo...” The guy next to her thought.

        “Regulars!” Quant announced, “I’ll be directing this next test today, so listen up! As you know, everything in this tower is made of and can be manipulated with Shinsoo! As you get higher up in the tower, the Shinsoo density increases. So this test is designed to see which of you is worthy of continuing. Those of you born on the higher floors may think that the Shinsoo concentration here is pretty light. And of course, those who made it to the top, like me.” He bragged. Biff hated people like him, who really just loved to hear the sound of their own voice. And he hated the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it even more. The other regulars seemed to agree with him in a collective groan.

       “Aww, don’t be too discouraged. I’ll be generous. Besides, if I go too easy on you now, some of you might really get hurt later! Observe, everyone. These three regulars here will show you exactly what happens if you come into the tower unprepared and unqualified” Quant grinned. This was the shakedown. The trio put up their guard, but considering their inebriation, it didn’t amount to much.

        “How about… floor 37?” Quant waved his hand, and to most of the regulars, it seemed as if nothing happened. But to Biff, James, and Slav, it was as if they had been hit by Biff’s prized big rig. They flew into the crowd, being caught by some of the more generous regulars in front.

        “What the hell was that?!” Biff yelled as he lay on the ground, getting back up on his feet with the help of a couple people around him who were struggling to lift his chubby body. It was like he was simultaneously crushed and pushed at the same time. He was amazed his body could withstand it. The other two were just as dazed.

       “That is your test! Regulars, bear witness to these fools who think they can climb without being prepared for the risk! If you think you can survive up there, try and pass through this barrier. This is as difficult as breathing the higher you go.” If the rest of the tower was anything like this, it might have been a little more dangerous than Biff gave it credit for. Maybe he shouldn’t have had so much to drink.

        The regulars were spread out fairly evenly in terms of prowess. Some passed without any trouble at all. Some charged it only to be flung back and bruised. A couple of them struggled, but made it. James was the first of the three to get up, rushing in an effort to drill through with his sharp beak. Alas, he lacked the grit to make it through in his current state and bounced off like it was a springboard.

        “Let me give you some advice,” Quant was serious. “If you can’t make it through this, you have no chance of climbing. Go home.” This did not sit well with the half who hadn’t passed yet, invigorating them and allowing them to charge with newfound strength. Some continued to fail, eventually giving up in despair as their new acquaintances effortlessly passed. Others got lucky, passing through the power of pure determination. Slav, the drunkest of the trio, was still trying in vain to push through. And James was pecking at it like a madman. At best, they were only just beginning to sober up. But Biff hadn’t even gotten up yet. He was lying on the ground, watching them struggle. He looked at Slav and wondered what he wanted to pass so badly for. The way he dressed, with his elegant robe, it looked like he had a pretty cushy life outside. But look at him go… He turned his head towards the eagle, who refused to stay in the cage. Having been so used to freedom in the United States, he sympathized. _Look at him go._ Would his ranker mentor be proud if she saw him, drunk off his ass, pecking? He could barely control himself, but he was giving everything he had for this. He looked at over fifty or sixty other regulars doing the exact same thing. He thought of his own wife. He thought of the road. He thought of his truck. So why the hell wasn’t he going at it with his all too to find them again?!

        He sprang to his feet and barely stuck the landing, still clearly drunk. “Listen up, ranker!” He shouted. “To hell with this Shinsoo! You all think you can give tests and control everything, keeping people tied down. Where I come from, there’s nothing but the open road and a big blue sky! I don’t know what the hell everyone else is fighting here for, but if you try to take away my freedom, that’s something I won’t stand for!” In the distance, someone somewhere could faintly hear the National Anthem playing. Biff ran up to the barrier, the strength of all the bald eagles in America propelling him forward. With one mighty swing guided by the invisible hand of the free market, he swung his fist as hard as he could towards the barrier.

        Nobody, not even Quant, could believe it. The barrier shattered. In the distance, RajeevRavi and Felkin could be heard shouting “POWER FANTASY” and “THE SEINEN BECAME A SHONEN” respectively. But this was neither of those things. All this was… just a man who wanted his freedom and his truck, and a man who loved America. Of course, all of the other regulars had no idea who Biff was and absolutely none of this translated. They could only look on in awe as what looked like solidified Shinsoo cracked and disintegrated back into its natural state. Slav and James charged through, unaware of what had happened until they realized they passed and looked behind them. Those who had previously given up in despair now sprang up once again and ran to the other side. Biff Biggums stepped forward. “When’s the next test?” He asserted himself, “I’ll punch through that one, too.” Well behind Quant and the other passed regulars, the mysterious figure smiled with glee, unable to keep in an excited breath.

        “Why am I always next to the weird ones…” The same regular lamented.


	6. Part 6: Biff and the Pact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff learns about the Tower

        “Ro! Ro! Hey, Ro! You’re not gonna’ believe this!” Quant caught up with Leero Ro, who merely picked up the pace. Quant began to jog. “Come on, Ro! This is big news! One of the regulars broke the barrier.” Leero Ro stopped. Breaking the barrier? How? He never recalled seeing anyone even attempt to attack it whenever he administered the barrier test. Well, Quant was far from his level of Shinsoo manipulation anyway, so it couldn’t have been impossible for it to have failed. But still…

        “Was it a princess?” He asked, “You know we’re in the middle of another batch of them being selected.” Quant was over-excited yet again.

        “I mean, we had a princess, but this was just a drunk fat guy! He just came up and punched it! What… what do we do with him?”

        “Hm…” Leero Ro thought. This must be a very powerful regular, but what could be done about it? They might as well let them climb the tower, but it might be putting the other regulars at a big disadvantage to let someone so powerful compete with them. But these things happened in the tower, he knew better than anyone. It was best that they were prepared for it sooner rather than later. “Do whatever you want. They all need to be put into positions anyway, let the teachers handle that. But if it wasn’t a princess, I suppose you should inform Evankhell…”

        “What do you think he’ll do?” Quant gulped. They didn’t call this floor “Evankhell’s Hell” for no reason, after all.

        “I don’t know. But luckily… I wasn’t the one in charge of this round of regulars.” Leero Ro sped off, leaving Quant to sulk alone in the hallway.

        “Ah, crap…”

        It was a restless day for the regulars. After two tests, they really just wanted to eat dinner and go to bed, but they wouldn’t break out of hell that easily. They still had to be sorted into their positions. After Biff broke the barrier, there was really no way to tell who would pass and who would fail in the end, so Quant bit the bullet and let everyone pass as an “act of mercy.” Whether letting them continue to climb was merciful or cruel was up for debate.

        “Well, regulars, congratulations on… passing,” Quant hesitated. Honestly, he was a little humiliated someone broke his barrier. Yeah, it was weak, but he was still a ranker. “In any case, we looked over the data, and we’ve come up with the position best suited to you! You can check the monitors over there to see what we pegged you as.” Biff looked over at a series of screens, looking for his name. He had no idea how, but they knew it. Biff Biggums was right there, under… Fisherman?

        This was big, if true. Biff was an avid fisherman. He used to take his wife out on the lake sometimes on dates and fish with her. They’d talk for hours, and hell, if they were really lucky they might even catch a fish! Biff rejoiced. There really was something good besides drinking that he could do in this tower. He wondered if James was one too, being a bald eagle and all. He probably ate fish all the time. But James found himself on a different list. Instead, he would be a scout. Indeed, it seemed all three were to be separated. Biff didn’t recognize anyone in his own group. He found Slav on a different screen, showing Wave Controllers, whatever that meant. What the hell was a wave controller anyway, or a light bearer? This system made no sense to him, but fortunately Quant was there to explain.

        “When you climb the tower, teamwork becomes incredibly important. You need to be able to work together like clockwork and make snap decisions. If you try to go alone, you’ll definitely die. You’d have to be a princess or Urek Mazino to have any chance of success like that. Even the great King had a team on his way up the tower! If you’re a regular and you’re a spear bearer, what do you think would happen to you without a fisherman or a scout to give you cover? And if you’re on the other end of that attack, you better hope there’s a light bearer to shield you with their lighthouses from the spears. When you compete up the tower, your entire life depends on your teammates.” Quant became serious, as if recalling something from a past life. “Of course, I was so great back then that I was the one doing most of the covering.” He laughed.

        “Well, you guys can have fun for the rest of the day. Rest up, your classes start tomorrow. You can see the class assignments with the position.” All of the regulars began to mosey off towards their rooms or the cafeteria again. Biff began to leave as well, but the ranker put a hand on his shoulder, seemingly teleporting over to him. “Hey, you.” He whispered. James and Slav looked back wary. “Your stunt earlier gave everyone a second chance, but you better watch out. The last person we saw who acted like you got a pretty scary reputation. You should take the next tests normally.” Biff couldn’t tell if it was a word of caution or a threat. “And if you try anything funny, like stealing the Sake again, I’ll tell Evankhell about this.” Alright, _that_ was a threat.

        “Evankhell?” Biff asked? James and Slav shuddered. Quant looked at him, bewildered.

        “You don’t know who Evankhell is? Where the heck do you come from?” Quant stopped himself. It was probably better not to ask since the answer might land him in even more trouble. “Evankhell is the big boss here, who oversees all of the testing. But he’s a really scary guy, even for me! And he’s at least, I don’t know… ten times our size?” These rooms weren’t even twenty feet tall. If he was the big boss, he was too big to fit in here. And yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to disbelieve it after all he’d seen today. “He killed the great family ranker who used to own this place and took over himself. And if he catches you messing with his tests or breaking any rules here, he’ll make you suffer. You may have broken my barrier, but I won’t hold that against you. So don’t give me another reason to tell my boss.”

        Biff almost thought it was funny; he was so arrogant before, but now even the ranker was afraid of someone else. Even then, it worried him a little bit. He still didn’t understand the rules of this place. He thought of telling Quant to screw off, that he’d handle everything just fine, and that he’d find his way out even if it meant knocking this Evankhell guy’s light’s out. But he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere.

        “Hey Administrator, if you’ve been to the top of the tower…” Biff looked him in the eye. He still wanted to know one thing, at least. “How do you get out?” Who was this man? The way he punched through the barrier, his question about the exit, was he Urek Mazino’s overweight uncle? Quant sat down and laughed.

        “You’re really interesting, you know that? It’s a shame you’re not a scout. I don’t know. If you want to find something like that, maybe you can meet Wolhaiksong later. But good luck with that. They don’t even let in most rankers.” Now even Quant was tired, this was too much. Biff still didn’t understand, but he decided it wasn’t worth pressing any further at this point. All he could do was keep going up until he found the answer himself.

        “Well, see you later, fat man.” Biff twitched as he walked away. Slav caught up to him.

        “Hey, Biff… what you did back there was incredible. Thank you. If I failed that test, I don’t know what would have happened. You saved my life.” James repeated the sentiment immediately after.

        “It was nothing.” Biff sighed. “After all, I guess you helped out the bird and I pretty good earlier. He patted Slav on the back. “Don’t worry so much, kid. We’ll get up there somehow, become rankers or whatever, and I’ll get my truck back one way or another.”

        “You really want to go to the outside?” Slav asked. “You know, there are dangerous people that come from out there. Like the king, the family leaders, and Urek Mazino, right?”

        “I know I can’t stay in this tower. I’ve got a whole life back where I came from. I’ve gotta be back in time for football season!” Biff laughed. “Come on, let’s get some dinner. I’m tired of all these goddamn tests.” His friends had no idea why he wanted to go to the outside, but after what happened today, they began to consider whether or not he’d actually be able to climb to the top after all.

        That night, Biff was the life of the party. Now that they could drink to celebrate passing the first round of testing, nearly all the regulars dedicated a round to the amazing Biff Biggums and his fist. Even the ones that resented so much competition passing couldn’t help but respect it. Only the mysterious figure continued to watch from the sidelines, and the one who had coincidentally been next to such a foreboding presence before couldn’t help but notice a small pocket of silence in the room full of cheers. They asked him how he did it, and the only answer Biff could give was the feeling he got seeing everyone else trying to achieve their dreams. It reminded him of the great American dream, and the freedom he so badly desired himself. That’s what gave him the strength to do it, he said. Of course, not all of them took the answer seriously, but at this stage, who could truly explain such strength anyway?

        Biff met plenty of regulars that night. He met the haughty Montezuma, who barely bested him in an arm wrestling match using the power of glowing tattoos and earning himself a beer on Biff’s behalf. It was a shame he was a spear bearer and not a fisherman, he told Biff. He met a shy and respectful light-bearer Toulalan, who again compared him with Urek Mazino based on the stories he’d heard. _I really need to meet this Urek Mazino guy_ , he thought. But the way everyone hyped him up… and he sounded Russian… he hoped they’d be friends. Biff even earned the interest of the legendary Ari Hitomi, who was apparently destined for greatness. “We may be few and far between,” she said, “But I’ll prove to this tower how strong my family really is.” It seemed like family was a big thing in this tower. Not knowing anyone to compare him to, he really had no choice but to believe her.

        As the night began to wind down and regulars started to say goodbye to each other and go off to bed, the trio went to apologize the server, who had thankfully recovered. “Hey man, sorry we accidentally clocked you earlier. Truth is, I was just overwhelmed and wanted a beer. Don’t hold it against these guys that much.” James hung his head in respect and penance, and Slav whispered a slight _sorry_ himself, too ashamed to speak. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

        “ _No you fucking won’t”,_ thought the server. “ _You regulars are all the same. No respect for the staff, you think you’re so god damn powerful. I don’t get paid enough to deal with this crap”._ Alas, professionalism prevailed. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can work it off in the kitchen during the training classes.” Biff opened his eyes wide in excitement. He had often thought about starting his own Barbeque when he lived in Oklahoma: _Biff Biggums’ Big Bites,_ he’d call it.

        “You got it, sir.” He shook his hand, but was surprised to discover he had no fingers, making it a fair bit more awkward than it could have been. Truly, that handshake was a job for James and his wing-hand-things.

        Slav was the first to retire afterwards. He had always been early to bed, early to rise. Biff could tell, in his little goody-two-shoes attitude and his diligence. Biff thanked him again for the help earlier and said he’d see him tomorrow. Then it was just Biff and the bird. Just a few hours ago, they had been fighting to the death. Since then, they’d gotten drunk of their asses and gotten through the next test together. He was insane to befriend him, but he was an eagle. His last name was Washington. It must have been fate.

        “Hey, Washington.” Biff looked at him earnestly. Aside from that hooded weirdo in the corner (were they sipping chocolate milk?), they were the only ones in the room. “Back in my country, we got a lot of birds that look like you. They’re a symbol of freedom. Flying high in the sky, able to go wherever they want.” Where was he going with this? Biff had always been bad at this kind of thing. This was not the best moment to recall his engagement dinner. He winced. James stared at him curiously. “I guess… Look. This wasn’t a coincidence, you and me. I still don’t really understand anything about this god dang place, but I want you to go up with me.”

        James began to laugh hysterically. Over forty years of relentless training, nearly wasted in a fight with this fat man and then getting drunk with him. But the way it happened… he wouldn’t have done it for anyone else. “Alright then, my worthy partner.” He shot Biff a determined glance. “I’ll take you up this tower. So you can fly free again.”

 

        As James left to rest his tired wings and the poly-eyed server closed up the kitchen, Biff finished one last beer. It was just him and the weirdo now. Biff stared at the hooded figure, sipping on some chocolate-milk looking drink. Though he couldn’t see the face, he could tell those eyes were staring right back at him. It made him uneasy, like there was some force at work he wasn’t aware of. He couldn’t take it anymore. He crossed over into the corner and sat down right with his ominous acquaintance at the table.

        “Look, pal. I’ve seen you staring at me like all day. Are you, uh… I mean, do whatever you want, it’s a free country and all where I come from, but I’m not looking for anything, alright?” He couldn’t see into the hood, as if some magical spell was preventing it. “Just, you go your way, and I’ll go mine, alright?”

        “I really should have finished you off sooner.” She smirked. What the hell was that supposed to mean? And she? Despite what seemed like a very imposing figure behind that cloak, he definitely heard an effeminate voice. Biff couldn’t help but wonder if she was hot… or maybe I’m just putting words in his mouth. “It hasn’t even been a day and you’re already causing trouble.” Sooner? Suddenly it all came back to him.

        “You listen here, lady.” Biff got up and pointed square at her face. “I don’t know what the hell you want or what you’re in this tower for, but I’ve got no beef. I’m gonna’ let your little murder attempt slide for now, but I really didn’t appreciate you trying to shoot me out of the sky the way you did.” Behind the darkness, she grinned. Biff could still see her teeth, and he remembered the grin. It infuriated him.

        “You think you’re pretty strong right now, don’t you?” She chuckled. “I’d be careful. People that find out about you so obviously might end up getting hurt. You think you’ve saved everyone by breaking that barrier?” She leaned into him. Biff began to sweat. “Guess what. You’ve just killed them all. If they make it past this floor, who knows? Maybe they’ll be killed by a stronger regular, maybe I’ll kill them… or maybe you’ll kill them.”

        “What the hell are you talking about, all I’m going up for is to get the hell out of here and get my goddamn big rig back!” He asserted.

        “This tower is so cruel, isn’t it?” She pondered, “It takes us here with no knowledge, forces us to fight each other, then to become friends immediately after. We compete, we betray, we kill for what we want. Your little pact meant nothing. These tests, truly, mean nothing. Let me give you some parting advice.” Though he couldn’t see, she looked at him grimly. “The only rule here is _power._ ”

        In the hallway outside, a pair of ears solemnly listened to their conversation.

        “...Maybe I’m the weird one.”


	7. Pt. 7: Biff Biggums' Big Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff cooks one hell of a breakfast.

        Biff couldn’t sleep. That woman reminded her of the rabbit. Like she knew things he didn’t. But what really worried him was that he didn’t think she was wrong. He dwelled on that first test, seeing her grin as he fell to his death. He remembered the pile of bodies around her. She really did try to kill him and James back then, didn’t she? Like that Rabbit, he felt powerless against her as well. He remembered it flinging him through to the next floor as if he was weightless. Somehow, he knew that girl could do the same thing if she wanted to. Now _that_ , he truly wasn’t used to. When she leaned into him earlier, he felt so much pressure. Like she was strangling him without even touching him.

        “ _We compete, we betray, we kill for what we want._ ” How could he deny it? They loved Biff when he got everyone past the test earlier, but they really were killing each other hours beforehand. If he was in the way, who’s to say they wouldn’t have gone after him? _No_. No use getting paranoid like that. He trusted James and Slav, at least. He wasn’t afraid of a brawl, but he wasn’t prepared for this. Maybe in the next test, he’d find a way to beat her. He knew he couldn’t overpower her, but it couldn’t have been impossible. She had just started, just like him. What could she possibly know anyway?

        He had been staring at the ceiling for at least half an hour. The room was a bit bare and small, but in a way it reminded him of dorm life back at Ohio State, just with a lot less drinking buddies and a hell of a lot more diversity. _Affirmative Action didn’t even begin to cover it_. Biff chuckled at his own thought. When the others talked about climbing the tower, he viewed it like climbing a mountain. You do it for a few days, it’s an arduous journey, and that’s it. But it looked like he was in for the long haul. He hoped to God they had trucks… or at least a Hummer or something. From what some of these guys were saying, this might take years. Hopefully gas was cheap. At least his accomodations were kind of comfortable for the time being. The bed could have been a bit bigger, but alas. _Beggars can’t be choosers_ , he thought. Accepting his fate and preparing for the trials ahead, Biff finally focused on sleeping in an effort to somehow show that goddamn nihilist who the real boss was.

        As much as he wanted to, Biff didn’t dream. All he got was a quick fade to black when he closed his eyes before being rudely awoken by the alarm. He thought it seemed too early in the morning, but as he came to his senses, he remembered his promise to the server. It was time for Biff Biggums’ Big Bites to make its debut. He opened a small walk-in closet and was pleasantly surprised to find some basic but fitting outfits. They even prepared toiletries for him. How they had prepared them so quickly was a mystery, but he had to take his comforts where he could find them. After a quick shave and shower, he was ready to fry, and then to fish. He put on the trucker hat he brought in with him and walked over to the kitchen through a bright hallway.

        Slav was already waiting in the kitchen when Biff and James arrived, wearing his apron under yet another robe. He was a lot more energetic than Biff and James, whose feathers were still somewhat messy. The two put their aprons on and spent the next half hour learning how to use the various ovens, coolers and stoves in the kitchen from the server. “Just make sure you cut the right parts of this eel before you serve it, or else you might get sick when you eat.” Luckily, Biff was a great chef and an even better slicer. He could do that thing with the fingers and the knives. He cut himself the first couple of times when he was a teenager, but since then he was unmatched in his hometown.

        Soon enough, the regulars began to trickle and then flood in for breakfast, all too eager to see Biff and his friends in their poofy white hats and “Kiss the Cook” aprons behind the counter. Biff was all too pleased to see the tower had a sense of humor. Even better, most of the regulars seemed to enjoy it as well. A couple of regulars, even Ari Hitomi, actually gave him a quick peck on the cheek as thanks for breaking that barrier and livening up last night’s dinner. James shot him a cheeky grin and leaned over as he was serving a slender, pale regular.

        “You know, you’re lucky you’re alive right now. Most of the stories I hear, you can get killed for just brushing against a member of a great family like her.” Thankfully, it seemed like the girl was a merciful soul. He was thankful he shaved his stubble when he got ready earlier, but even if he didn’t, he wasn’t too worried about her killing him. Slav shot him a look of his own, though Biff couldn’t tell if it was one of caution or of jealousy. He was a good looking guy for sure, but a smooch from the ten great families might have been a bit too out of reach even for him. But what made him feel even better was that half of the regulars had flocked to him and his eel for seconds. Even the poly-eyed server admired his abilities. But Biff did notice that his ominous adversary didn’t touch a thing he cooked.

        As breakfast came to an end and the amateur chefs got ready for their respective classes, Biff was ready for another test. Though he never got to try his own eel, he did indeed stuff himself on what was left, and even found a way to sneak a quick beer. For the first time since his entrance, Biff was in high spirits. Next up was fishing! He moseyed towards his testing grounds like a cowboy towards his horse through a dimly lit corridor, passing by a tall, dark-skinned regular leaning on the wall. His gelled hair made a wave across his head, just barely stopping short of his eye when it went down. He looked like an emo… _But I thought emos were white,_ Biff thought to himself.

        “Hey, big guy. Biff.” He said, monotone and motionless, his arms crossed. Only his eyes moved towards him. _Shit. Another foreboding weirdo_.

        “Hey, uh… shit. Sorry, I forget your name.” He had seen him before, even served him breakfast, but he didn’t remember any introductions from last night. Best to be cordial until he started spouting some shit like that girl.

        “First, thanks for breakfast. It was good.” He stopped leaning and opened himself up a bit. Well shit. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad after all! “And second, I’m sorry about last night. I saw what happened with that girl.”

        “Oh, yeah?” Biff was embarrassed. He didn’t realize anyone else had seen him humiliated like that. He looked away.

        “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Things like that happen all the time. She must come from a pretty hard place.” _I’ll put her in a pretty hard place when I punch her teeth in during the next test_ , Biff thought to himself… if he could find a way. “A lot of people are like that. Here, if you’re strong, you can do whatever you want. It’s your privilege. Some of us train, and some of us are just born lucky. You were born lucky too, weren’t you? With a punch like yours.” Biff wanted to resent that. Coming here was one of the least lucky things that had happened to him. And he had earned that punch. He wasn’t always so flabby. If only this guy could have seen him back at Ohio State! But it was useless to explain that sort of thing at this point.

        “Yeah, I guess. What do you think, huh? Do you just care about power, too?” He asked, looking into his eyes. They were green. It didn’t match his brown hair and skin at all, but anything went in this tower. Biff would just have to get used to it. The man sighed.

        “I guess. I’ve never had so little that it’s all I wanted. But I’ve never had enough to love using it, either. I just think you should know that when you meet people like that girl, you should stay away from her. I know that type, and you’d be putting yourself in a dangerous position if you crossed people like her. You felt it too, right? The pressure?” Biff nodded. He knew very well. “I felt it too. Sometimes people like that aren’t so bad, but… I don’t know. Just be careful around her. And the rest of the weird ones for that matter.”

        “Thanks for the advice, bud.” Biff gave him a small pat on the back. He took a couple steps away, but stopped. “Hey. Why tell me this?”

        “Guys like you are pretty rare. You might seem pretty strong, but good people don’t tend to last too long around here. Just don’t get too naive.” He looked down for a moment and crossed his arms again. Biff became apprehensive again.

        “What’s your name?”

        “Oh, right.” He rubbed his neck. “Vazquez. Temlin Vazquez.”

        “Well, I’ll see you around, Vazquez. Good luck in your test.” Biff waved and walked away. Vazquez continued to watch him as he walked away. Biff furrowed his brow. _That guy knew more than he let on,_ he thought. But even if he was right, Biff wasn’t prepared to take the loss on this. As intimidated as he was, he had to even the score somehow.

        Biff walked into the Fisherman classroom only to find the door led into a massive outdoor arena, filled with large, circular platforms suspended in the air, They were arranged as if they formed the outline of a mountain, connected by thin walkways. At the top sat what looked like nearly all of Biff’s fellow fishermen, as well as a silver-masked woman in front of them.

        “Ah, Mister Biggums!” She projected clearly but lightly through her mask, “I was worried you’d miss the first class! Attendance counts towards your final passing score, you know!” Wait, attendance? Passing score? Shit, this really was like Ohio State! Maybe this really was just a dream, and he had secretly entered his mid-life crisis. But he knew better… at least on the dream part. In any case, he bounced up the walkways and joined the rest of his new classmates. Immediately, he felt a pressure. That girl was right over there, seated in the back. She wouldn’t even validate him with a look! Biff glared at her even harder as he sat down. She knew he was looking. She had to know! But he wasn’t so petty as to get worked up over something like that, was he?

        Biff sat down right next to her. Now she’d have to acknowledge him! He’d grab victory wherever he could take it. But she still didn’t even glance over. She wasn’t distracted at all! She really was on a completely different level from James, or anyone else for that matter. Biff, red in the face, had no choice but to silently admit defeat yet again. But something was weird… where was the bait? The tackle box? The fishing rods?

        “Now that everyone is here, welcome to your first lessons. My name is Hax, and I’m also a ranker just like Mister Quant. As he told you all earlier, teamwork is essential to climbing the tower. And the fisherman is usually the center of that team. Unless you have a very strong wave controller, the fisherman is the primary powerhouse and their positioning can control the flow of the battle!” She kicked her legs in excitement as she input an unknown command into her pocket.

        “There, now you all have a reel inventory if you didn’t have one already. You can make it visible by saying ‘reel inventory: visible mode,’ and vice versa.” _Seemed intuitive enough_ , thought Biff. Suddenly, he sprang up and shouted: “REEL INVENTORY: VISIBLE MODE!” A rack of weapons unceremoniously decloaked itself… well, it would have had weapons if Biff had any to begin with. The entire class burst into laughter. Even Hax let out a hearty giggle.

        “Very good, Mister Biggums. I hope the rest of the class is as swift to learn as you are.” She considered giving back his lost points for tardiness in exchange for the amusement, but alas, amusement only gets one so far in the tower. From breakfast to this. Today had truly been an emotional rollercoaster for Biff, and it wasn’t even midday yet. Someday he’d learn the strange laws of this place. Someday, they’d stop making fun of him. But for now he’d just have to grin and bear it. He tried to save face while he still could and sat back down.

        “Now, some of you will be offensive fisherman, while some of you may end up supporting stronger attackers on your team. Either way, you and the scouts are the front lines, and the fisherman especially needs to make sure their ranged teammates stay protected. But since it’s only just us fisherman today…” she took a breath, “Let’s have a little test.”

        Biff groaned internally. _So this fisherman bullshit was really just for more fighting_. He was really disappointed; how long had he waited to catch some fish?! His day was declining so fast that he guessed he’d probably just get a heart attack by sundown. But there was no choice except for competing. After all, it was the only way up, back to his life and his big rig. But his ruminating was cut short by the ranker, who, after pulling out a needle from her own reel inventory, flailed it in the air and sent all of the regulars careening back to the outer platforms of the mountain arena. Miraculously, Biff landed on his feet and without injury, but not everyone was so lucky.

        “Your preliminary test begins now! The fisherman must be at the center of the battlefield! Whoever can stand supreme at the top of this mountain by the end wins! And please, just a quick warning, do try not to kill each other so early.” Hax added. Biff couldn’t tell if that was a joke or not.

        Only one other regular landed on Biff’s platform: A man with six eyes, four arms, and God knows how many… well, we’ll save that for another fan fiction. His name was Vishra Vedala, and he had introduced himself during dinner. _Nice guy_ , thought Biff. He’d try not to beat him up too badly.

        “Hey, Biff!” Vishra shouted, waving with one hand and putting his fists up with the other three. “You make a mean breakfast! I’ll go easy on you!” _Heh. Never mind_. Biff took it back. He’d beat him up a little for underestimating him. He didn’t think he was any stronger than James, and James and him were in some pretty extreme circumstances when they last fought.

        “Yeah, bud, same goes for you!” Biff shouted as the two ran towards each other. Vishra wasn’t as strong as he looked. Though muscular, he packed a light punch. Biff didn’t have a lot of trouble deflecting the first couple, but as it turns out, having four arms tends to give one an advantage in battle. Biff took a hard one to the gut, knocking the wind out of him. But Vishra was too cocky, too offensive. After taking a second blow, Biff was prepared. He kneed Vishra in the chin, knocking him to the ground.

        But as he went for the body slam, Vishra put his arms out and caught him on the way down. This was a game changer. With all his might, Vishra threw Biff off of him to the edge of the platform, springing back up to his feet. He charged quickly and prepared to knock Biff off and out of the competition, but Biff was far from finished. He centered himself and caught Vishra’s arm, spinning him around with a pivot. After a couple of harder blows during his disorientation, Vishra was nearly finished.

        “Don’t worry, bud. Just stay down for a bit,” Biff said as he prepared one final punch to the gut. Yet no blow was necessary. Vishra hadn’t recovered. All of a sudden, he dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach and groaning. He seemed to be in dire pain. Biff chuckled, proud of his own strength, and wished his rival good luck as he ran up to the next level of platforms. But something was wrong; he was alone. He looked down to the first level, and saw almost every regular lying in agony. Surely that powerful girl couldn’t have gotten through them all so quickly. He squinted and looked more closely: There must have been thirty other fisherman lying down, clutching at their stomachs. He recognized each one of them, who had reintroduced themselves to him in the breakfast line. And, just a tad, Biff thought he could smell a faint stench…

 

_Oh no._

 

_The eel._

 

        But he had no time to panic over his dire mistake. Because not everyone had eaten the eel. Across the arena, on the next platform, there was only one regular who dared refuse Biff Biggums’ Big Bites-Become-Bioweapons. And though he could feel her power from across the way, it was now or never. The time had come for his revenge, and he’d make her wish she had eaten that eel.


	8. Part 8: Biff and Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff meets his match.

        Hax looked on in utter confusion at her latest training session. How had the battlefield been narrowed down to two combatants so quickly? And to see the late, fat one as one of the last regulars standing came as a surprise. Of course, she knew the other one would make it. She was from one hell of a family, after all. Hopefully the other tests were just as disastrous, or else she wouldn’t know how to save face in front of her coworkers, let alone Evankhell. But this was the man who broke through Quant’s barrier… ultimately, she thought it more interesting to let the regulars settle things themselves than intervene. 

        “You better get ready, lady, because I’m not a man who loses twice!” Biff shouted as he charged at his opponent. This wouldn’t go the same way as the first test yesterday; he wouldn’t let himself be distracted. He grit his teeth, and as he jumped over to her platform, he felt the same determination as he did when he broke the barrier. He had no idea why, but today he felt slightly stronger, slightly lighter. Maybe it was just beating Vishra earlier, or maybe there was something special about moving through the Shinsoo. He hated to think about it, but there was something slightly satisfying in being able to solve your arguments with a good brawl in this fantastic tower. Sure, he didn’t like hitting a girl, but she’d just come for him if he didn’t, right? If she was as serious as he thought, there was no need holding back. 

        Biff landed on her platform with a  _ thud _ and continued in full force. He wound up his fist, focusing on his steadfast and motionless opponent. He could still see that damn smile of hers through the cloak, recalling his first near-death experience. It pissed him off even more.  _ How can she keep smiling even knowing she’s about to get absolutely fucked _ ? He’d knock some of that smugness out of her no problem. Mere inches away from her, he planted his feet. Her cloak fluttered in the short gust of wind produced by his approach.  _ Too shocked by my speed _ , he snickered. For a millisecond, Biff wondered whether he’d be overdoing it if the barrier was any chuckled. Yet even now, he could still feel her pressure. This punch had to make a big impact, or he might be in trouble. Luckily, the momentum behind his punch was carrying his fist straight into her. In a split second, he’d finally get his revenge.

        And in a split second, his fist made full contact… with nothing. He hadn’t even noticed her move, but the woman was nowhere to be seen! He wanted to shout, but all that came out of him was a grunt as the wind was knocked out of him by an unseen force. He clutched his stomach and groaned, but had no time to react as she appeared in front of him, knocking him into the air. The force knocked his hat away into the depths below. He landed on his belly and sprang back up, his layer of fat having absorbed the blow. There she was, right in front of him. He moved in quickly for the body slam, but just like that, she had sprang up herself, leaping above him with a grace and majesty he had never seen before. Whatever he’d been kneed with, Biff imagined there was a pretty heavy outfit under that cloak of hers, but he wasn’t very interested in confirming this theory.

        She quickly followed up with another punch, but Biff had his guard up this time. He was knocked back, but withstood it well. He ran up to body slam her, but she swiftly pivoted out of the way. She really was fast. Though her figure wasn’t exactly slender under the cloak, she moved with a confident flow and surprising agility, keeping Biff guessing on where her next strike would come from. Just who the hell was this girl, who could jump so high and punch so hard? He had never seen anything like it back home, or in here. She reminded Biff of a viper, the way she would move around and swing her limbs so fluidly until an instantaneous strike, as if they were whips. But even taking the blows, Biff still counted himself lucky. He was lucky she hadn’t fired another blast of shinsoo or whatever like the one that knocked him out of the sky earlier. 

        Hax crossed her legs, expecting nothing less from Biff’s opponent. This was definitely the power of the great families. No other regular gets this kind of training, and even without a needle of any kind, she was trouncing him. The battle would be over soon. She just hoped her “star pupil” didn’t knock him off the platform. “If only I had that kind of power when I was still climbing…” she wondered aloud, resting her cheek on her hand. 

        “Do you understand?” Biff’s assailant paused as he turned around, panting heavily as he wiped the blood off his lip. For a moment, there was calm. The other regulars were fallen and silent, and not a sound was heard besides the whirring of the floating platforms. “ _ This _ is the kind of pain you need to expect.” She delivered another blow to the gut. Biff coughed. “ _ This _ is not some playful fantasy where you can shout your way through every test and make tons of friends and have adventures.” She knocked him over with a heavy slap, towering over him. Only now did Biff realize how tall she was. He didn’t realize it during dinner, but she was as tall as he was. And now she was even taller, looking down on him. No. This wasn’t a reality he could accept. This had to be a fantasy, ultimately. Even if he was stuck in it. But that wild glare in her eyes, that unrelenting wrath, was as real as he had ever known. “And when you broke that barrier and let everybody else in, you just put into the same hell with people like you and me.”

        “You damn bitch…” He snarled at her. He kicked his leg up at her to knock her off balance, but she effortlessly swatted it away. He lacked the strength to do any damage with it regardless, but she answered his insolence with a swift kick, sending Biff rolling towards the end of the platform. Well above the regulars, Hax began to consider intervention, watching with anticipation. 

        “Call me whatever you like. But do you see it? The only thing that matters here is power. Some of us are driven enough to get it. Some of us are lucky. But if you’re not, things like this happen to you.” She leaned into Biff again, exerting the same pressure. “You know, I really love meeting people like you.” Her eyes softened as she continued, “I love teaching people like you, the people that think they’re strong, what it means to be truly special. You may pack a punch for now, but you should quit while you’re ahead. Before your big mouth gets you and your friends killed. You know, maybe I’ll pick on that bird next. They’re always a-”

        Biff spat in her face. “I don’t see shit.” His glare was even more furious. He was in no position to make another offensive, but he had heard enough. Whatever wisdom she had to offer, he had no intention of understanding. “You shout just as much as I do. You think you’re some kind of teacher? You have no idea what I’m like or where I come from!” Biff caught her off guard with a solid headbutt. The ole’ “Hit ‘em during the middle of the monologue” trick had yet to fail him. Biff helped himself back up. “This ain’t no goddamn adventure for me either, But I’ll be damned if you try to tell me the only way ahead is to beat the shit out of everyone I see like you do!”

        Whatever compassion was left in that sadistic woman had disappeared. Her eyes hardened, and that excited grin was nowhere to be seen. The gut was too merciful this time. Any ground Biff gained was instantly lost as she delivered a crushing blow to the head, leaving him utterly stunned. He couldn’t even fall down. She wouldn’t give him such a peaceful ending. She grabbed the 240-pound man by the neck with little effort, slowly tightening her grip on Biff’s oxygen. 

        “You dare spit on a princess?” She glared at him with wide eyes, breathing heavily. “You really don’t know anything at all, do you? You have no idea what kind of people are up this tower. But you know, I’m glad I didn’t kill you quickly enough during the first test. Because now, I get to show you.” She lightened her grip for a moment. “Spit on me again. Call me a bitch again. I want you to. Because in the end, your words are powerless. But my hands,” she tightened her grip again as two angry and vengeful pairs of eyes met, “My hands will show you what it takes to climb.” In one final burst of strength, Biff grabbed onto her cold, iron hand. Anything to give him the chance to breathe a couple more breaths.

        “Princess? Don’t make me laugh. All I see is a girl who’s so afraid of pain that she can’t even show her face to the people she kills. If you’re really so powerful,” Biff coughed and wheezed as she tightened her grip even further, “You’d get rid of that fucking hood and take some goddamn responsibility!” He screamed through his teeth, barely able to keep the blood in his head as he began to turn pale from lack of oxygen. He couldn’t lose to this bitch again. He couldn’t…

        “You think you deserve to see my face? You think you have the right?” Her spare fist trembled. This wasn’t how she thought it would be. She wasn’t used to this kind of defiance, or resilience. He should have submitted. She should have killed him right now. A tormented shriek enveloped the arena. She had tried to teach him easily. As he coughed and wheezed, she could still feel his fingers squirm and try to fight her grip. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way. She grit her teeth and punched him until he stopped. She would show him what it took to wield the power she held. She would show him time and time again. 

        But Biff, still barely conscious, watched her walk up the path to the final platform. He tried to crawl, but his body wouldn’t respond. Now he could only think only think of vengeance. Of rage. Of humiliation. Of power. Staring at his own spit and blood… this wasn’t the end. He would never let it end. Not until he showed her… power… 


	9. Part 9: The Nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff sleeps through an extremely important happenstance.

        It had been a long day for James Washington. On top of a brutal first day of scout training with the less-than-merciful Quant Blitz, immediately after getting out he heard the news about Biff. He arrived at Biff’s room to find a concerned Slav squatting by his bedside. 

        “What happened to him?” James asked calmly before taking a look himself. He didn’t look well. The bleeding had stopped, but his face was swollen and purple and his breathing was faint. His forehead was wrapped with a thick, white bandage. 

        “It looks like he got in quite the fight,” Slav said. “The rest of the Fisherman didn’t fare much better.” It was the same for the scouts, hunched over and clutching their stomachs. It was so bad, Quant’s first test was a race to see who could find the bathroom first. James and Slav had luckily escaped such torment thanks to the fact that they were on the other end of the eel, so to speak, but they knew that nobody would ever look at them the same way. From paragons to pariahs. But Biff had it much, much worse. 

        “When do you think he’ll wake up?” James asked.

        “Hard to say. He’s not dying, at any rate. But he should be asleep for a while. I passed the doctor on the way out earlier; he said he suffered a lot of head trauma. He should be fine in a few days, at least.” James sighed in response. Slav furrowed his brow, a little disappointed he couldn’t do anything to ease either friend. “Do you think it was that hooded one?” 

        “Probably.” James replied. He noticed after he left the night before that it was just the two of them. He must have provoked them and gotten paid back for it in today’s training. They were definitely bloodthirsty enough to do something like this. “I should have warned him, I knew someone like that would be dangerous. That kind of power… to have even formed a baang in the first test is unbelievable, let alone to hit me with it! You can’t trifle with someone like that!” James rest his wings on the sleeping Biff, next to Slav. He sighed at Biff’s stupidity, his rashness, or whatever the hell made him fight someone like that. Slav’s eyes widened out of their melancholy.

        “I knew they were powerful, but to think they could already shoot off a baang… They must be a family member. Do you think it’s a Eurasia?” Slav looked at James with interest. “Well… I guess if they were, they’d be in wave controller training with me.”

        “I couldn’t say.” James replied. “I didn’t see them fight, but they would still have to be exceptionally powerful, even from the families. That Ari girl doesn’t exert any kind of pressure near that level. With that kind of training…”

        “Do you think it’s one of Bayroad’s legendary mad dogs?” Slav became nervous. To think a mad dog would be in their testing pool! If FUG had a hand in this round of tests, that would be bad news for all of them. Biff might have survived this time, but not a single one of them had a chance if FUG sent a mad dog to destroy this round of testing. 

       “But FUG already has at least three mad dogs in the tower! Why would they be so active on the lower floors? Didn’t they make a slayer recently, too?” James cursed his fate. He knew climbing the tower would be difficult, but no amount of training, even from his mentor, could prepare him for FUG. He chuckled out of anxiety. “Do you think he’ll at least live to the next test?”

        “Look at him, his breathing is a little deeper already. He wouldn’t have punched through that barrier if he wasn’t resilient.” Slav replied, looking at Biff’s stomach expand and contract like a rising tide. Maybe his fight wasn’t quite as bad as they thought… or maybe he really was a little more powerful than most. “I think he’ll be fine soon.” Slav moved to a chair a few steps behind himself, taking an opportunity to relax now that his new acquaintance seemed better.

        James continued to stare. To have endured her attack and somehow recover like this really was exceptional. Of course he’d honor their pact, but with the right training and the luck to survive what might be a mad dog or something worse, he might actually be able to become the spearhead of his team! To climb with this guy to the top of the tower… 

        “An old, fat man taking us up the tower. It’s insane, isn’t it?” Slav laughed to himself. James turned his head around, a bit apprehensive of his accuracy. 

        “It certainly is. He may look like a fat old man, but if we can keep him from dying down here, we could go straight up the tower faster than anyone.” 

        “If he doesn’t pick a fight with the wrong person again, that is.” Slav corrected him, stretching his legs. “But, I guess that’s the price we’ll have to pay if we really want to team up.”

        James curved his beak into a smirk. “So you think he can make it too, then?” 

        Slav looked down and smiled. “Of course not. But… compared to you and me, and everyone else here for that matter, I think he’s practically unstoppable,” He looked towards James with a solemn smile on his face, “And without him, you and I would be dead.” James looked down. He was right. If they hadn’t passed the test, James wouldn’t have been able to endure the dishonor. His master’s training gone to waste and with no future to speak of, James wouldn’t have any other option. But thankfully, these things did not come to pass and James would dwell on it no further. Biff was recovering, and now was the time to look towards success, not failure. 

        “I’m going to grab us some dinner, what do you want?” Slav asked the eagle. They had thankfully been given the night off from kitchen duty.

        “Anything but eel.” They both laughed.

        Outside Biff’s room, Temlin was leaning against the wall. He furrowed his brow and sighed. He had warned him earlier, didn’t he? People like her are dangerous. He should have known better. He should have stayed away from that woman and kept his head down. Why couldn’t he be like the others and say the hell away from her? Friend or foe, who in their right mind would be drawn to someone like that? But at least he was alive. “Some people just never listen.” he thought to himself, slipping away just before Slav walked out of the room.

        The life and camaraderie that once enveloped the cafeteria had been completely sucked out, flushed deep into the pipes beneath the toilets along with what was left of that horrible eel. Regulars ate their current meal in silence and solemnity, weakened by a truly awful first day of training. Most of them were eating near their current classmates, lamenting their shitty first days and discussing how the heck they were going to get through the next month. The only one who managed to retain any sort of energy was Ari Hitomi, but beneath her warm and open smile lay a deep remembrance of the stomach cramps that had plagued her as well. It seemed being the heir to a great family didn’t make one immune to everything. Biff’s cloaked arch nemesis, as usual, was dining alone. 

        She gnawed at her steak, watching the other regulars converse and eat. She gazed at them coldly, wondering how they could bring themselves to become friends so easily. She didn’t come into the tower to make friends. These people were nothing more than competition. They’d probably never even see each other again after passing… if they passed in the first place. Of course the Ari girl was at the center of the congregation.  _ What an idiot _ , she thought,  _ trying so hard to be friendly when she was in an entirely different league _ . She’d learn one day what it really meant to be from the ten families. Maybe she’d be able to get along with her own brothers and sisters, but she was from an entirely different species. Her disdain, however, was interrupted with the sight of a bottle of  _ NesQuant  _ Chocolate Milk, slid over to her by a smooth, dark hand. 

        “I take it you’ve had a hell of a day, huh?” Temlin sat down right next to her. She couldn’t tell who was more stupid: The shark over at the other table who thought she could swim with the fish, or the fish staring right into an even bigger shark’s teeth right next to her. Did he think a fucking bottle of chocolate milk would satiate her? “You really fucked that guy up, you know?” He was pretending to be calm, but she could feel his anxiety peeking through. Pathetic. It was barely worth dignifying with a response.

        “He got what he deserved. I showed him true power isn’t about who yells the loudest. And I had a little fun with him as well.” She said coldly, clenching her fist without even looking at Temlin. Even hidden beneath the cloak, he could tell she had some pretty imposing gear. 

        “It’s whoever hits the hardest, right?” He looked into her as if he saw right through the cloak. “But he packs a punch himself. I know you remember. He didn’t just get lucky.” How could he speak so directly? She knew he could recognize the power she held, but here he was, trying to hold a conversation. It was an interesting choice as well, bringing Biff up. She might have to show this man the true meaning of power as well if he didn’t be quiet soon. “You know there’s something up with him.” 

        She scoffed. “You wouldn’t understand. Not his power, nor mine. He doesn’t have the right.” She glared into the distance, recalling the barrier. What gave him the right to pass everyone? What gave him the right to that power, to use it so whimsically? She would never have done something so stupid, with so much disregard and idiocy as to let a bunch of unqualified weaklings go forward. Not her. She earned her power.

        “Well, maybe… or maybe his power is for a different purpose.” He sipped his own bottle of Quant-a-Cola. What the hell was he talking about? Power had no other purpose here. Temlin exhaled. “You think he can make it up?” 

        “Even if I allowed him, someone else would put him in his place.” she chuckled in response.

        “Well you might want to look out. If he gets the time to train, he might be able to hit a little bit more than walls. He might even be a challenge for someone like you one day.” He smirked at her, raising an eyebrow. Was he becoming more comfortable with her?  For an unassuming regular, he certainly was audacious. This had to stop.

        “My only challenge is killing him without angering the teacher.” She turned and looked straight at him. “But I’m sure nobody would mind if I killed his biggest fan.” Temlin shrinked back a little and let out a nervous laugh.

        “You know, his friends think you’re a Mad Dog.” How did Temlin or anyone else here know about Mad Dogs? She should have killed him on the spot for even implying such a disgusting insult. “And I guess you’re mean enough to be in FUG.” She wanted to laugh at him, at everyone, for underestimating her so badly. “But I know better. The kind of power you have isn’t anything so weak or bastardized, is it? And I know how hard you’ve worked for it. And how much you hate the fact that the fat guy’s using his own so callously.” 

        “Who are you?” She asked him, staring into his eyes through the darkened cloak. He looked up at her with perceptive eyes. He had attained her interest. 

        “I’m nobody special, not yet.” He paused, looking down at his bottle of cola for a moment before returning to her face. “Temlin Vazquez.” 

        “Why do you care so much about that old man?” She leaned into him.

        “Geez, you make it sound like he’s my first love.” He ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t particularly care about him, or even like him all that much. I just gravitate towards certain people. Just like all of them.” He nodded at Hitomi’s group. 

        “So why don’t you go over to her?” She asked, a little annoyed, but she understood. He just wanted powerful teammates.

        “Do you think we’d get along?” He laughed, for real this time. “No, look at her. She’s too nice. She doesn’t understand the difference. If I went up with her, she’d get me killed for sure. Anyone who goes up with someone like that is biting off more than they can chew. But someone like Biff Biggums…” He chuckled at the name, too, but even his dining partner relaxed a bit. They actually agreed on something.

        “He’ll probably get you killed too.” She smirked.

        “Yeah, he might... ” They kept looking forward, at everyone else, keeping themselves busy, completely unaware of a truly important occurrence. “That bird he likes will die for sure. But he and the blonde kid might make a good team. And hey, if you two went up together yourselves!” He laughed. She did not.

        “Don’t say stupid things.”

        “You’d be one hell of a power couple.” He sipped his cola again.

        “I’ll kill you.” She looked at him with a pure and terrifying intent. Luckily, Temlin got the message. He had nearly as big a mouth as Biff.

        “Why do  _ you _ think I didn’t go to Biff, then?” He asked her. She had known from the moment he gave her the chocolate milk. He wasn’t strong, but he was sharp. And awfully perceptive.

        “So you’d rather team up with a rumored Mad Dog and FUG member before going with an heir to a great family, or...” No. That would be too crazy. 

       “Come on, I told you before, I know better than that. She doesn’t, and neither does he. But you do. And right now, you have more power than both of them combined. I can’t risk dying because an idiot like Biff Biggums or Ari Hitomi begins to fuck with forces I can’t see coming.” 

        “And you think you could handle going up with me?”

        “No, of course not,” Temlin grimaced, “But if I took what I could handle, I wouldn’t even be in this damn tower.” It was true. He was nothing special himself, but both the look in his eyes and his knowledge signaled a certain cunning that veiled grander ambitions. “If I climb with anyone else, I’ll either die or become another meaningless ranker. And if you climb this tower alone, all your power will make you is another pawn of your families and a trophy for your father.”

        “Watch your tongue!” She got up and moved towards him with hostility. She would not be disrespected again. But with impressive speed, he grabbed her arm and looked into her, his green eyes ablaze.

        “I can help you. Climb with me, and you can be so much greater. If we go up this tower together, I will make you the most powerful princess that has ever existed. And I can free you of your curse.” She backed off and laughed. Him, a regular, free him of the curse? Now he was just insane. She was better off teaming up with Biff!

        “And even if we climbed,” she was still laughing, looking down at him, “What would that make you?” 

        Temlin brushed his hand through his hair again. “Your faithful servant, for one,” Was he trying to sound cool? “And if I could do all that, then I think I could be an extremely important person.” 

        He was definitely trying to sound cool, and there was no way he would ever be able to help her climb, let alone give her what she wanted, but his answer was interesting. He knew he would never be able to acquire power, and so did she… but importance was something different. And his perception was nearly clairvoyant. He may not be completely useless. 

        “I won’t mourn you if you die.”

        “If I die, I wouldn’t be worth mourning for.”

        “I won’t wait for you.”

        “You won’t need to. I’m fast.”

        “And if you ever climbed with Biff Biggums, I would never forgive you.”

        “I would never forgive myself if I made such a stupid decision.”

        “Alright then, Temlin Vasquez,” she raised her  _ NesQuant _ . Temlin picked up his  _ Quant-a-Cola _ . “You are hereby the loyal and undying servant of Princess Hendo Lok Aliana Zahard.”

        And in that lonely corner of the room, away from where the other brainless regulars ate and talked about matters with no consequence, a truly important and remarkable event was taking place. Not only had an unremarkable regular approached a Princess of Zahard, declining both a great family member and an irregular in favor of a murderous and unsympathetic member of an omnipotent empire, but he had even gone so far as to make a team with her. And even though such lofty goals had absolutely zero chance of success, she somehow believed him enough to agree. Because he would do anything to get what he wanted, even making a team with someone like her. But she would do the same. With her free hand, she lifted her hood and showed her servant the face of his master. And with a resonant  _ clink _ , their bottles sealed their pact. 

        As he drank, Temlin looked at his Princess in awe. He had made the right decision. She would fulfill all of his hopes and dreams. He would make her the most powerful princess the empire had ever seen.

        And he would be an extremely important person.


	10. Part 10: Biff and the Declaration of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff walks a new path and forms a new alliance.

            A smooth breeze brushed across Biff’s face, the perfect complement to the beaming sun above. His cap had been removed long since, allowing his mullet to flow freely in the wind. With one hand on the wheel and another on his Bud Light, he cruised down an endless highway. Though its sides were adorned with lush trees and grassy hills, the horizon ahead was limitless.

            “Biff,” she said quietly. The wind was silent. He could hear her perfectly, her soft voice soothing his ear aided only by the low hum of his truck. He stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

            “Biff,” she repeated, putting a hand on his leg. It was soft, smooth and tan. Its warmth diffused through his thighs, traveling up his stomach until it panged his very core. It was a touch he had longed for. He took a deep breath in. But he couldn’t take his eyes of the road.

            “Where are we going?” she asked. Biff continued to drive straight along the highway.

            “Nowhere,” he replied without moving a muscle.

“This road doesn’t go on forever.” She said.

“I know that.” He replied.

“Then why are you still going?” She asked again.

“I don’t want to go back.”

            “Biff, look at me.” She turned towards him, betraying a lock of curly brown hair. Her hand tightened, as did the warmth extending through his body. He winced.

            “I can’t.” He said, his red cheeks betraying a deep anxiety hidden underneath a pair of sunglasses and a quiet demeanor. “You know I can’t.”

            She leaned into him. He could feel her breath, slow and composed, caressing what the wind could not reach. To leave it all behind and hold her once again…

            “ _Look at me_ ,” She whispered. _“I am de captain now.”_

            “God damn it, Darlene!” He could barely manage a laugh. In hindsight, her encyclopedia of movie quotes really did spice up their foreplay. She giggled and moved back into her seat. That woman was a fanatic. It was getting harder and harder not to look. He wanted to see her again, fully: to smell her shampoo, to caress her ripe and tender thighs, and to look into the vibrant hazel eyes to which he entrusted the very fiber of his being all those years ago. Yet somehow, he knew that if he dared to take his eyes off the road, it would all disappear.

            “You have to go back, Biff.” She said sadly.

            “I won’t.” He looked forward, across the endless highway and into the void of the horizon with increased weariness. He sipped his beer. It was tasteless.

            “But when will you look at me? How will you talk to me?” She pleaded.

            “I’ll keep driving forever. We can talk all we like here. We can do anything we want as long as I keep driving.”

            “Is this really what you want?” He could sense her look toward him again. “To stay in a dream like this?” Those eyes he wanted so desperately to get lost in were piercing the side of his head, but he couldn’t give up. He grit his teeth, unable to bear losing her so quickly. “Every time you leave, I wait for you. I didn’t marry a man who won’t come back to me. I married a better man than that.”

            A sudden and bitter cold showered over him. The eyes that stared into him had disappeared, the hand that warmed him, everything. He finally looked over to his right to confirm his fears. She was gone. A pained groan tried and failed to escape his throat, but his thoughts gave pause to the sight ahead.

            There she was, standing at the end of the road, after all he had been through, as beautiful as she was the day they met. He slammed on the brakes, as futile as it was at his speed, but there was nothing to fear. Before he could blink, she was right in front of him, her warmth enveloping him, two hazel moonbeams gleaming into his own eyes. From all directions, she echoed:

 

            _“I love you. Come back to me.”_

 

            “I LOVE YOU!” Biff declared with all of his might, shouting back at those moons so far away across the blank and endless horizon.

 

            “What?!” A tense figure froze and twitched before jumping back and falling on his tailfeather, leaving a drizzle of loose feathers in his wake.

            “What the hell?” Biff jolted up in his bed, and everything suddenly came flooding back to him. “Aw, shit…” He clutched his head and his nose, noticing the bandages and swelling.

            Slav collapsed in laughter. “What a wonderful sight,” he let out a snort or two, “I now pronounce you man and bird!” He couldn’t stop laughing.

            “Miss me with that gay shit!” Biff and James both shouted at him in perfect harmony. They paused, both internally screaming, before looking at each other and then looking away in an instant, shrieking all the louder in their minds. Slav laughed even harder.

            “Thank goodness you woke up.” James finally broke their silence. “We didn’t know when you would.”

            “That weird girl pulled one over on me.” Biff clutched his fist with his free hand. “I couldn’t do a god damn thing!”

            “It’s not your fault, Biff.” Slav came up to him and spoke gravely. “That girl is on a completely different level from us. She’s a princess of Zahard.”

            “You must be joking!” James exclaimed, “So she’s not a mad dog, but a princess? Such power is unprecedented all in one floor!”

            “It’s no joke, Eagle.” he continued, “I overheard it when I was getting dinner. She was planning something with another regular. I think she’s trying to form a team with him.”

            “Already?” James wondered, “How will she know he’d even pass the next tests? We’ve barely started classes, isn’t it too early?”

            “I don’t know. Maybe she knew him beforehand, but I heard administrators aren’t supposed to let that happen. He could just be strong, or he might have proposed a deal of some sort. In any case, we should be careful of them. A princess is guaranteed to pass. But hypothetically, if we were to form an alliance…”

            “What the hell are you thinking?” Biff got out of his bed, still clutching his head as the blood rushed out of it. “That girl’s a god damn lunatic! She’d probably just try to kill me for talking to her again!” James nodded in agreement.

            “I guess you’re right. But that just makes her another dangerous enemy.” Slav ruminated. “We’ll find a way past this, but we need to train hard or we might be in big trouble by the time the next test rolls around.”

            “You damn idiot, I know that already!” Biff shouted. Slav met his eyes angrily, then looked down again. “Sorry, I just… Whatever. How’d you guys do in testing?”

            “Well…” Slav blushed, but James quickly continued.

            “Your eel made us pass with flying colors. Most people failed for the day because they got so sick. Quant said that the real lesson here was that finding out information on what foods were poisonous was a part of scouting and failed everyone who ate the food. Luckily, that gives Slav and I a head start in points.” Slav nodded. Biff, however, was distraught. Would Biff Biggums’ Big Bites come to an end in such scandal? How would he redeem himself after this? This might be the end of whatever solidarity he thought he had with the other regulars.

            “So how long was I knocked out, then?” He was slightly afraid of the answer.

            “Most of the day. It’s the middle of the night, but I guess you might not need to sleep as much anymore. But try to rest up. You need to train diligently tomorrow. Slav and I are doing the same.” His feathered friend replied. “You get a day off from the kitchen, but after that you should get back to work as well.”

            “Well… thanks for looking after me, guys. ‘Preciate it.” Biff crashed back onto his bed, preparing to go back to bed. “I think I can take care of myself from here.”

            “Well, let us know if you need anything. We can’t have our own powerhouse getting hurt on us anymore.” Slav said. They both looked at their friend before finally leaving, shutting the light off behind them.

            “So, she’s really one of those princesses.” Biff pondered in the darkness. Unfortunately, as a proud son of the United States of America, he had never been particularly taken with the idea of monarchy. He’d show her what real power was: A body of directly elected representatives chosen to make decisions on behalf of their constituents, bound by an unwavering constitution. And besides, there was only one Princess for him.

            Biff ate his breakfast quickly and fiercely with James and Slav with newfound determination, much to the bemusement of the server. His head hurt, but he had to make the most of every day at this point. If he really wanted to get out, he realized he would have to take this place a lot more seriously. The quicker he recovered his full strength, the better. Luckily, he remembered more than he cared to mention about what Biff and James told him that first night at dinner.

            At the other end of the room, he noticed two regulars eating together at a round table with nobody around them: One was the princess, still hooded. The other was Temlin Vazquez. Biff sneered at him: _backstabbing bastard_. He’d get him back somehow, too. He probably knew he would fight the Princess and wanted to see who would win. But that revenge was for another day.

            After breakfast, he quickly walked out of the cafeteria and through the narrow hallway to his Fisherman training, but not before taking an unexpected turn. He was a little late, but so was his target. And that provided a perfect opportunity. He followed rather slowly at first: a lighthouse lit up the otherwise dim hallway, highlighting the individual rooms. One of them was a gym. Nearly halfway down the corridor, when Biff was sure nobody was in sight, he caught up.

            “Hey, Hitomi.” She jumped a bit. She had never been called so informally before. She shined her lighthouse on Biff, still quite swollen and bruised.

            “Oh, hi Biff. Did you need something?” She asked politely, but some of the kindness in her voice had been lost. No doubt in response to yesterday, Biff thought. He looked down somewhat shamefully. At least she was still pretty polite.

            “Uh, you said you were from the Ari family, right? The great family?” Biff asked somewhat timidly, hoping he could trust his thoughts. Hitomi stepped back, her lighthouse still illuminating a slender and pale figure. She was dressed rather formally compared to the other regulars, a little like Slav but with more pieces and fringes hanging from a slightly shorter dress rather than Slav’s ornate robe. Its light blue fabric looked sleek when lit by her lighthouse. But behind such a formal dress code was a kind and radiant regular who had different ideas on how to best lead a great family. Yet she was still apprehensive, wondering why her poisoner was approaching her again. Hopefully he didn’t get the wrong idea from that quick peck on the cheek. Under her garments, she shuddered.

            “Yes, the Ari family is one of the Ten Great Families. Why do you ask?”

            Biff gulped. In a way, this was slightly humiliating. Yesterday, he’d never thought it would come to this. He was blushing a bit. _Oh God,_ Hitomi thought. _He really did get the wrong idea._

            “Well, first off, sorry about… you know…” She looked away and scowled. She’d rather not recall that. “Look, I really didn’t mean to… uh…”

            “Is that it?” She asked.

            “Well, I got smacked up pretty badly yesterday. From that hooded girl, you know?” Hitomi nodded in response. That girl was bad news. Worse than Biff and his eels. “And I know we’re kind of competitors and all, but they say you’re pretty powerful, and besides, you’re not a Fisherman, so I was thinking that maybe, uh…”

            “Oh, Biff, I…” Hitomi’s eyes widened. This couldn’t be happening.

            “Maybe you’d teach me how to fight people like that.”

            _Oh,_ she thought. Somewhere far, far up the tower, Ari Han himself breathed a gigantic sigh of relief. Hitomi quickly composed herself. They weren’t direct competitors like the other Light Bearers were… but why couldn’t his friends help him fight? Oh, right, that bird and the blond kid. She understood why he wanted to go to someone a fair bit stronger than them. But that punch earlier, it’s not like he was weak by any means. It wasn’t an easy decision to consider for her, remembering the embarrassing position he’d put her in yesterday… but looking at him so beat up now, maybe he had learned his lesson.

            “Alright, Biff. I’ll teach you, so that maybe we can all stand a chance against that girl. She’s a princess, isn’t she?” How did everyone but him figure it out? “But there’s one condition.”

            “I’ll do anything.” Biff glared into her ethereal, gray eyes.

            “Free food every time I go to the cafeteria. And you can never make eels again!” She declared with determination.

            “Well, little lady, you’ve got yourself a deal!” He prepared for a firm handshake, the truest mark of a contract.

            “You know I’m over a hundred, right?” She asked innocently as she reciprocated.

            “Jesus Christ.”


	11. Part 11: Biff and the Ideal Male Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff Hits the Weight Room

        Class today was tense. Everyone stayed far away from Biff, and even further away from that Princess… not that Biff stayed any closer to her, either. As intimidated as he was, he largely remained focus on Hax and her teaching. He and another burly regular, Bel Berhino, were sparring partners, and had slowly gotten on good terms again throughout the class after reaching a mutual understanding on the eel incident. Any leftover resentment towards Biff was released through some slightly harder-than-normal blows to the gut.

        The sun, or whatever construct replaced it, beat down on him heavily as he tried to remove extraneous movement from his punches, but he did not slow down despite his eventual exhaustion. In fact, by the end of the day, he thought he had improved a bit, though looking around at his classmates he could tell he wasn’t exactly pulling ahead. In any case, once he got back outside, he’d never have to worry about losing a bar fight ever again. Every occasional glance over to the Princess gifted him the sight of mastery on the subject, as well as a cheeky grin back through her cloak. But Aliana knew that she had a long way to go to truly master the role of Fisherman. 

        Sweaty but proud, Biff huffed and stomped out of the classroom, ready for his real training to begin. Even if he was tired, he couldn’t stop now. He was too excited. If she could give him the skills to take down that princess, he reckoned he’d be practically invincible! It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He wondered what kind of skills James and Slav were learning, too, and if he’d be able to practice more with them later. He took his cap off and wiped the sweat out of his shaggy brown hair, then strutted towards a place he never thought he’d be back at since he left Ohio State: The Gym.

        As he approached the door, the memories came flooding back: Powerlifting with his buddy Rich, quietly laughing at that scrawny kid trying to lift the bar. He remembered those chubby kids that came in, probably for the first time, walking on the treadmill, sweating and chugging their water bottles. He froze before opening the door, his hand inches away from the doorknob. What would the other regulars say about him now? He was strong, sure, but his best days were past him. Once things had gotten serious with Darlene, he didn’t need to try as hard to keep up. His once chiseled abs were now hidden by a thick layer of blubber. 

        “Well, if they start laughing at me, I guess I can just kick their ass.” Biff sighed to himself as he tightened his grip around the doorknob. Maybe if he kept it up, he could impress the wife when he got back, too. 

        The tower did not cut corners on physical fitness! As far as Biff could see, there were benches, machines for exercises he couldn’t begin to comprehend, treadmills, and weights. It was heaven, yet he only noticed a couple of familiar faces in the room, the spear bearer Montezuma among them. His tattoos glowed dimly, adding a luminous green hue to his sweat while he curled an impressively-sized dumbbell. 

        “Hey, Montezuma,” Biff walked over and exclaimed, “Coulda guessed I’d find you here!” 

        “Ah, hey Biff!” He said warmly as he continued to curl. His muscles now were more impressive than Biff could ever hope to see for himself. He wondered briefly how he was able to do so well against him in arm wrestling. “You here to train for our rematch?” 

        “Yeah, something like that.” Biff shrugged modestly. “Gonna’ get some extra training in outside the class.” Montezuma stopped curling and looked up at him.

        “Really? I’m impressed, I didn’t think you were that diligent. Every set helps man, remember that. Don’t get too cocky though, or you’ll have a hard time when the next test comes around. Good thing you and I got here to work out early.” He wiped the sweat off of his spiky, black hair. Biff wondered how much gel he had to put in it. He looked like a porcupine or some shit. His hair didn’t even wilt in the slightest. Who knows how much time he spent styling it in the morning. Montezuma was very diligent indeed.

        “I’m surprised, Biff! You beat me here!” A high, energetic voice shouted. Biff and Montezuma turned to see Ari Hitomi standing confidently, hands on hips. Why was she surprised? They didn’t think he was that lazy, was he? 

        Both Montezuma and Biff took notice. It seemed she had stopped off to change after class. Where there had once been a formal dress now rested a much tighter set of white and blue workout clothes. Biff chuckled, wondering if she was about to step into an MMA ring with him. He was a long way off from wrestling (or something of the sort) with Ronda Rousey, but this was a good start for the time being.  _ No, Biff, think of the wife _ , he stopped himself. He was a loyal man, and loyal to his wife above all else. 

        “I’d have been here earlier myself, but I didn’t think my light-bearing outfit was quite as conducive for this kind of training.” She said, brushing a few stray hairs out of her face as she approached the two regulars. 

        “Biff, working out with the great family?” Montezuma shot a sly and cheeky smile over at Biff, prompting an embarrassed glare from the trucker. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Hitomi picked up on it in time. 

        “Nah, just got my ass kicked in a brawl yesterday,” he signaled to his headbands, “so she’s giving me some pointers.” 

        “And he’s giving me free food!” Hitomi laughed. “Only fair after he nearly killed us all yesterday.” Montezuma joined in on the laughter.

        “Ah, come on, it couldn’t have been that bad. Y’all loved it in the morning!”

        “It was.” Montezuma replied seriously.

        “Aw, shit.” Biff rubbed the back of his neck. “I promise breakfast will be a lot better tomorrow.”

        “I can’t believe they’re still letting you work there!” Montezuma chuckled. “Don’t worry, everyone else will get over it soon enough. I know you’re decent.” He patted Biff on the back before picking up his dumbbell again. 

        “Well, Biff?” Hitomi looked at him, her silver ponytail trailing her head, “Are you ready to move to the sparring room?” 

        “You bet I am!” Biff said with enthusiasm, getting a mischievous grin in return before Hitomi led the way to another door in the back.

        “Good luck, Biff. She’s stronger than she looks.” Montezuma said as he began another set of curls.

        “Ah, don’t worry. I can handle myself just fine, man. You have a good workout, Monty.” Biff said as he followed his new sparring partner.  _ Monty _ , the spiky-haired regular thought.  _ I’ll let him off for that this time _ , he decided as his tattoos glowed brighter.

        Biff was led into a large and padded room, illuminated by studio lights. It reminded biff of an awkward mix between a boxing ring and a high school gymnasium. It was completely sealed from the rest of the gym, so nobody could hear their sparring… or his screaming, if it came to that. Hitomi stood across from him at the other end of a white circle, stretching her arms and cracking her knuckles. 

        “Alright, big guy,” she said playfully, “Come at me.” Biff was confused. He must have had at least a hundred pounds on her, and was a full head taller. She was certainly fit -behind her thick dress, she was surprisingly toned- but there was no way she’d be able to handle him immediately. Reluctantly, Biff charged forth. It looked like he was about to knock her straight into the wall, but as he approached, she quickly slipped around him, grabbed his arm, and applied pressure until it was about to snap. Biff howled. A satisfied smirk appeared on Hitomi’s face.

        “Lesson number one,” she said, “Never charge a member of the great families!” She released Biff from her old, sending him down onto his ass. He rubbed his arm, but the pain was already beginning to wear off. 

        “God damn it, you tricked me!” He shouted at her, angrier at himself for falling for such an easy ploy.

        “This is valuable information!” She scolded him from above, “Imagine if you tried to charge straight at that princess, or another member of the ten great families! You’re lucky I’m going easy on you, or someone else would have killed you already up there!” People were pretty mean in the tower! “Now come on, get up.” She extended a hand to Biff, but he got up himself. He wasn’t admitting defeat that quickly, and so put his fists up. 

        “Alright then,” she noticed he was ready for more and put herself into the proper stance as well, “Lesson number two! There is no family as good at reading opponents as the Ari family! You’ll never get to this level yourself, obviously, but I think I can teach you a bit of what I know! Now, before you come at me, close your eyes. Feel the currents of the Shinsoo moving around you and get a feel for the battlefield.” Ari Hitomi closed her eyes. For such a small and closed-off room, the battlefield was restless. The shinsoo around her was flowing erratically in what seemed like a hurricane to the untrained reader, yet it was moving tow-

        Biff bodied Hitomi right in the gut, sending her tumbling over a few feet backwards. Not even she was prepared for everything. Biff laughed “Lesson number two, little lady!” Biff declared triumphantly, “Don’t close your eyes during a fight!” He laughed, but she instantaneously got up and, with a fierce palm strike, sent him careening towards the other wall like an asteroid on its way to the dinosaurs 300 millionth’ birthday party. 

        “I thought I’d have to go easy on you, but you’re so advanced already!” She exclaimed jokingly. “Now let’s do this. I might even make you a real fighter by dinnertime.” Biff slowly opened his eyes, only to see Hitomi charging straight at him. He scarcely had time to blurt out, “Oh, shi-”

        “What the hell happened to you? You look worse than yesterday!” James ran up to Biff and Slav as they sat down to eat three hours later. It was true. He may not have been as injured, but he was covered head to toe in bruises. He’d feel them all even more in the morning. It hurt just to sit, Hitomi had knocked him on his ass so much. 

        “Eh, I guess you could say I got some special training.” Biff shrugged as he ate his charred meat. He may have poisoned everyone else last time, but he was sure he was still a better cook than whoever made this. He looked over at his new personal trainer enviously, back in her dress and barely a scratch on her; nowhere near as brutal as the Princess, but still well above Biff’s level. But the last few hours did include more than just beatdowns for Biff. He felt like somehow, he left with more than he came in with. Of course he couldn’t read the battlefield or anything like that, but he was able to catch a couple punches by the end of the afternoon.  _ For a man with no formal training and not even 50 years, you can really take a beating,  _ he remembered her say as she continuously knocked him around. Despite all the pain, he really was grateful. This was how it had to be if he wanted to stand a chance against the Princess next time. At least he knew he was tanky, now!

        “Some special training? You look like you got into a rematch with the Princess!” James said.

        “Eh, whatever, I’ll just be a little sore in the morning. You guys wanna’ go to the gym with me after dinner?” Slav was amazed that he could still work out in the shape he was in, and even more amazed by what he suggested next, “Hey Slav, why don’t you come out, max with me a little on the bench.” 

        Slav reeled back, hiding his disgust with laughter, “I’ll uh, I’ll just stick with my Shinsoo training, but you two can go right ahead.” He had never lifted a weight in his entire life. Any and all problems could be solved with a healthy mind and a big baang. But Biff would have none of it. He reached across the table and yanked his arm, James laughing as he ate all the while.

        “You kiddin’ me?” Biff joked, “Look at you, my grandma’s got more muscle than you! Come on, man, we won’t make fun of you. Just try it, you’ll feel great after a couple weeks hitting the weights!” What neither James nor Slav knew was that Biff’s grandmother Beatrice Biggums was a professional bodybuilder and was still alive and kicking at the ripe old age of 97. 

        “Yeah, Goslav!” James chimed in, “Biff and I will spot you… or are you chicken?” Only James failed to see the irony in his exclamation.

        “Ugh…” Slav sighed. He was beyond this kind of activity, but he wouldn’t let his companions make him the butt of their latest jokes, “Fine, I’ll come with you all.” He at least wanted to see if Biff could actually still exercise after such a walloping earlier.

        “So how did you guys do today in training?” Biff asked. Both sat content.

        “It wasn’t that bad,” James said smugly, “I did manage to snag one of these, though.” He opened his inventory and took out a shiny new observer. “It lets me track movement wherever it goes, so now I’ll have an extra set of eyes in the sky.”

        “Hey, that’s not bad.” Biff praised him.

        “This is just a rank-F model for newbies, but farther up the tower I’ll be able to acquire one that’s truly special. Maybe if we win a workshop battle.”

        “In your dreams, bird. We have to get up to a workshop, first. And even then, who knows if we’d be invited. 

        “What’s the workshop?” Biff chimed in, a bit ashamed at not knowing.

        “You don’t know about either Shinsoo or the workshop…” Slav pondered, “You’re something else, Biff.” James nodded in agreement. So the two explained all about the workshop and the special items one can acquire, and all of the weird and wacky and sometimes downright horrifying experiments that are performed there. Biff spent his meal learning all about ignition weapons as well, wondering if he’d ever have to use one. Finally, the three hungry regulars finished their meals, and Biff and James dragged their scrawny friend off to the gym to see what he was truly made of. 

        “Come on, man. We promise we won’t make fun of you.” Biff reiterated. 

        It was a very hard promise to keep.

        Over the next week, Biff, James and Slav continued to train harder than ever, with Biff dragging James and Slav with him to the gym every so often. Between his normal fisherman training, sparring with Hitomi, and working out with Montezuma, he was slowly earning back his prized reputation from the barrier test, though he still wasn’t even beginning to land real blows on Hitomi, let alone the Princess. He still couldn’t grasp “the flow of the battlefield” or anything like that, and he was even worse with the needle he was eventually given.  _ Real men use their bare hands _ , he thought. But Hitomi scolded him for being so stubborn when he told her the same thing. As an aspiring master of weaponry herself, she knew the importance of combat versatility. Still, she noticed, he was making steady improvements. Combined with his raw strength, he would at least breeze past the first couple of floors at this rate if the Princess didn’t kill him. It wasn’t unprecedented, but impressive nonetheless. What Biff noticed about Hitomi in return was that she could eat like nobody else, given all the free food she kept coming to him for. What was even more impressive, however, was that after that hellish week full of cuts and bruises, Biff thought he might actually have lost a couple of pounds. His stomach didn't seem any harder, but that was probably just because of all the beer he kept sneaking.

        The next Eduansday (similar to Wednesday, albeit with a few minor differences), he walked into the classroom like normal to find he was once again the last one to arrive, though not late. 

        “Today is a very special day, my precious students!” Hax said playfully, swinging her legs around.

        “Why’s that?” Bel Berhino asked cheekily.

        “I’m glad you asked, Mr. Berhino!” Hax raised a hand and, with no discernable motion, made Berhino convulse, contort, and scream in twinges of pain.

        “Today we’ll learn how to fight with Shinsoo!”


	12. Part 12: Biff and Talent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff ain't a wizard.

        “Shinsoo makes up everything in this world: The air we breathe, the attacks we use. It’s almost like magic, but its true mechanics are precise and steadfast. Shinsoo can be both your greatest ally and your most fearsome enemy. Your success in the tower completely relies on its mastery. Shinsoo allows you to control the world around you. You can shoot baangs at your opponents, or turn the shinsoo into tangible substance! You can even use it to make your body stronger or change your appearance!” 

        Biff thought on Hax’s words as training begun for the day. He didn’t really understand what a Baang was, or Myun, Soo, or whatever, but he did understand how important it would be, especially as he noticed how desperately people were struggling around him to create their baangs. Every so often he would see sparks appear and fizzle out, followed by a look of disappointment on a regular’s face. Some of them, like princess Aliana, obviously excelled, but a couple others seemed to have a knack at creating smaller baangs as well. 

        Unfortunately, determination was not such a strong factor in the mastery of Shinsoo. As hard as he concentrated, he couldn’t seem to form so much as a speck of light! The air around him felt completely normal relative to the rest of the floor, and whereas many regulars exclaimed their feelings on the sensations in their fingertips, Biff didn’t feel a tickle. Noticing his struggle, Hax herself floated down over to him. 

        “Mister Biggums, I had a feeling you’d find this difficult.” She giggled as she saw him shake with vigor, palms stretched out in front of him. “Shinsoo control rarely comes easy to the stubborn. Even if you’ve been improving in combat, you’ll fall far behind if you don’t grasp this by the end of class.”

        “I’m trying, but I’ve got nothing!” Biff exclaimed. “This stupid shinsoo shit, I don’t get any of it!” Bel Berhino, on the same platform as him, laughed as he overheard, though he too was not much farther ahead. 

        “This is understandable,” Hax responded, knowing what ailed Biff. “You need to be able to take in the world around you, to sense it and channel it into your own energy. Even if you can’t form a baang right away, you must at least begin by feeling the energy within yourself.”  _ Sounds like some yoga shit _ , thought Biff. The only time he considered doing that was to meet girls back in college, but he had only succeeded in making himself a laughing stock the last time he tried it. The girls there called him the Downward Dog for the rest of the semester. He had no intention of opening himself up to that ever again. But he had to at least look like he was making an effort. He spread his arms outward and tilted his head upward, eyes closed. Somehow, this did remind him of the advice Hitomi gave him last week…  Hax sighed, knowing full well he’d get nowhere. 

        “Can you feel the power from the space around you?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

        “No, just the wind.” 

        “Then maybe you need a bit of a jumpstart. Mister Berhino, you come here too.” Maybe she saw him struggling still and took pity on him for her attack at the beginning of class, or maybe she just wanted to provide Biff with a suitable challenge. Berhino came over to them, slightly cautious in case of another shinsoo attack on him. “Both of you, hold out your hands.” 

        As she stood between them, from her own hands shot a power into theirs and suddenly, Bel Berhino became incredibly invigorated. He had never felt such power before, like he could move mountains and punch holes through the ceiling! He shouted with vitality. And in his hands, Biff felt the same pressure, but none of it flowing through him. He felt it, but he knew no way to seize it for himself. Hax withdrew her hands, and spoke: 

        “Now that I have shown you the power of shinsoo, perhaps you can both channel it better. I can only spend so much time with each regular, so have a practice match between yourselves! Good luck to you both!” She laughed rather callously and flew away. The ranker giveth, the ranker taketh away. Biff Grimaced, cursing her silently for abandoning him. He still couldn’t feel a goddamn thing. 

        “Alright, Biggums.” Berhino stepped up to him confidently, towering over Biff by at least a couple feet. Biff was a bit intimidated. It was hard to find someone truly more massive than him in this place. If they were taller, they were almost always lankier. He cracked his knuckles. “You might think you’re hot shit right now, but I’ll put you in your place.”

       Biff smirked. “You wanna bet?” He stood his ground. If he showed fear, he’d immediately be on the defensive. It was time to land the first blow! He charged towards Berhino, only to swing his fist upon a rock wall. Berhino laughed deeply. 

        “It’s time for payback on that cheeky face of yours! Prepare to be baanged!” Berhino immediately gave Biff a punch of his own, but this time with added shinsoo reinforcement. Biff flew to the other end of the platform, caught completely off-guard by such a gay battle cry. Truthfully, he felt violated. This wasn’t too unlike the last punch from that princess.  _ Looks like this is gonna’ be another brutal one _ , he thought as he slowly got up and wiped the blood off his mouth. He clenched his fists and tried to recreate that feeling his teacher gave him.

 

        But it never came. 

 

        “You look terrible, what happened to you!” Hitomi gazed at Biff’s new swelling with concern. 

        “It’s this fuckin’ Shinsoo! Shit won’t come to me!” Biff yelled and pounded his fist on the floor, muttering other expletives to himself intermittently as Hitomi looked at him. He might have been strong, but he was having a rougher time on the floor than most. She didn’t realize he’d have trouble with Shinsoo, considering everything else he’d been able to do. His raw abilities seemed proficient enough.

        “I didn’t expect it to be difficult for you from the way you handled the barrier. But I guess it’s only your first time…” She looked at Biff with more pitiful eyes this time. Truly, she enjoyed their sparring over the last week. She had fun teaching him, watching him slowly get better. He was stubborn, but he was slowly learning, at least how to fight her. It made her feel powerful, like a leader. If she could help him understand Shinsoo, now that really would be something, wouldn’t it? 

        “Okay Biff, are you ready to train?” She asked.

        “I’m a little sore, but I think I can manage.” He got up, trying to hide his aches from Hitomi, but she noticed. She sighed, wishing he wouldn’t underestimate her like that. 

       “Before we start, I need you to close your eyes again.” Biff grit his teeth, but begrudgingly listened. Hitomi did not need the powers of perception to see his reluctance. “This is why it isn’t working! You need to intend to feel it!”

        “I am!” Biff exclaimed, eyes still squinted shut.

        “No, you’re not! I can see you just want it to come to you, but that’s not how shinsoo works unless you’re from a family like the Eurasias. Look, it was hard for me too the first time, and even I’m from a great family. Of course it’s not going to come to you so quickly!” Her words really didn’t make Biff feel any better. He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself, but still couldn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. Hitomi put her hands on her hips, impatient. “Come on, Biff. Make an effort, or you’re not going to get anywhere. You need to change your way of thinking. Now take note of what it feels like now.” But things felt completely normal. He didn’t know what to feel to begin with. Suddenly, he felt Hitomi rush towards him. 

        But the blows never came. He just felt her move and dance around him, a slight pressure emanating from her presence. It must have been Shinsoo. It was strange, somehow like being next to a swimming pool, but Biff couldn’t find the right words to describe it. 

        “Do you feel it yet?” Biff knew what she meant. 

        “Yeah, I do.” 

        “Good! That’s good, Biff! That wind around you, that’s the flow of shinsoo! Everything is this world is shinsoo, even the wind!” 

        “Yeah, the wind…” Biff wasn’t sure if that’s really what it was, but he felt something. 

        “Now, keep focusing. That wind has settled, right? That’s the regular flow in this room. Can you tell?”

        “Uh…” Biff couldn’t quite understand it, but he did realize that this is what she had been getting at when she was talking about reading the battlefield. Of course he wasn’t going to be able to read it before if he needed the damn shinsoo for it! But he did understand what it felt like now. It was what it felt like to feel nothing, in a way. Like he first felt when he was lying in the grass. “Yeah.” He finally confirmed.

        “Now try to take that flow, and use it yourself. Feel it, and try to move it. Change its direction so that it flows into yourself. Like so!” He saw Hitomi concentrate peacefully. Truthfully, he was a bit dazed. Not only from exhaustion, but seeing some kind of power flow into her, she seemed to radiate more than usual. It was almost like a holy power, soothing yet still dangerous. Soon, after a faint glow, she had produced a small, glowing orb. “I think you might be able to make something like this as a start.” She opened her eyes and looked at him sympathetically. 

        But as Biff tried, he could do nothing. There was something unattainable about the world around him, like he still believed that somehow he was on Earth despite knowing this was not the case. He tried to pull the wind towards him, to feel the flow and change its direction, but the flow was just out of his reach. He could move through it, but not seize it for himself. He growled through his teeth out of frustration.

        “Maybe we should stop for today. I know it’s hard, Biff, but we won’t get anywhere like this.” She put a hand out to stop him.

        “No!” He shouted. He couldn’t give up that easily. But for all his growling, sweating, and flexing, he just couldn’t grab it. He beat his fist against the wall. Hitomi found it hard to watch. Of course there were people struggling to use the lighthouse in class, but she had never seen someone take things this poorly. Seeing him struggle with such futility made her feel sorry for him. She put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to cease all motion.

        “Biff, that’s enough.” She said calmly. You’re not giving up. You’ll never learn how to control things like this. Calm down and we’ll try again later.” Biff paused for a second, then walked away silently, ashamed. 

        He spent the next hours relentlessly lifting at the bench press, using his indignance as a source of strength. It couldn’t be futile. He had to succeed, or everything would be lost. He had no idea what would happen if he couldn’t grasp shinsoo. It terrified him, knowing how weak he would be. That Princess would kill him. That was all he was certain of.

        Later, after all the regulars had been served and Biff, James and Slav were eating their own dinner, Biff ate silently and furiously. His friends watched, exchanging strange glances to each other. Finally, James asked: 

        “Did you train well today?”

        Biff sighed. “Yeah. But I couldn’t get fuckin’ nowhere! I still can’t make a damn Baang! I tried in class, and I tried with Hitomi, but nothing works!” 

        “You know how hard it is to make one. Even in Wave Controller class, some of us can’t even make a baang yet.” Slav tried to comfort him. Of course, he had no trouble, but he could see how someone like Biff might.

        “You can make one, right?” Biff asked him.

        Slav laughed. “One? Of course! I can even make two sometimes if I concentrate. I guess I’m a bit of a prodigy.” Slav enjoyed talking about it, but Biff furrowed his brow. James stroked his beak with his wing, as if in thought. 

        “Well how do you do it, man? I can’t grab the flow or whatever!”

        Slav replied, “Well, I doubt I could explain it better than your teacher. But I guess I can try to elaborate. The easiest way is with your hands. It’s usually the most sensitive way for a beginner to feel and channel the shinsoo.” He grabbed Biff’s hands, “Can you feel the warmth in my hands? I can try to send the flow of shinsoo into yours.” 

       “God damn it, man, the teacher already tried that.” He said with disappointment. But Slav attempted anyway. 

        “Biff, everything in this world is made of Shinsoo. There are some people that think we’re made of it ourselves. Why don’t you let it flow inside you?” He asked, curious. Whether it was unwillingness or something else, he was sure of one thing: Biff was blocking the flow of Shinsoo within himself. “Biff. Accept my shinsoo.” 

       “Ah, come on, man, that’s kind of gay.” Biff laughed a little and turned away, taking his hands back to grab and sip his beer. 

        “You need to be able to accept shinsoo to control it.” He retorted. This was one of the most basic rules for any wave controller, or any climber in general. It was absolutely pointless to refute it. “I can help you, Biff, but you need to accept my help.”

        “Whatever.” Biff checked out. “I’ll just keep working at it. It’s gotta come to me sooner or later.” And so the trio kept eating, tensely, awkwardly. Biff’s mind was in other places. Why couldn’t things just be simple? Why couldn’t it be like back at the bars, where he could just chug a beer, hear someone spout some dumb shit about his weight or his job, and then give them the old one-two? He chugged his beer, and went back to his room. Slav and James looked at each other with concern. 

        “What do you think?” James asked.

       “He’s strong, I know that. but whether or not he’s talented… I think we’ll have to wait and see.” They finished the rest of their dinner in silence. At the far corner of the room, Temlin watched, curious and somewhat satisfied. It seemed he had made the right choice. He smiled at Princess Aliana, who looked back at him apprehensively as she sipped her chocolate milk.

  
  


        Three days had passed, and each more depressing than the last. He trained during class, then with Hitomi, and twice with Slav, but to no avail. He made absolutely no progress, and with each passing session he grew more worried. His workouts still went well, but at this rate he’d be surpassed by everyone. He could practically see Hax laughing through her mask. He could see that fatass Bel Berhino mocking him and baanging him with his baang. It caused him untold resentment, and drove him to drink.

        Biff cracked open another beer in his room. Just because he was caught the first time didn’t mean he wouldn’t try taking some for himself again! Especially since the poly-eyed server had him close the kitchen every so often He was relieved they actually did have beer in here, but it wasn’t quite the same as a bud light. He tried so hard to recapture that flavor, but like the point of his training, it was just barely unattainable.

        “Damn!” he shouted once again, chugging the rest of his beer and slamming it on his nightstand. He remembered everything his mentors had told him. Feeling the flow, reading the battlefield, channeling the world around him. It seemed so simple to hear, but he just couldn’t do it! He grabbed at the air with his fists, swiping at it in some futile effort to prove the universe wrong. Then he reached for another beer. But there was none. He took off his hat and ran his hands through his hair. Even after being knocked out, this must have been the most excruciating day so far. To try so hard, and get so far, yet in the end it didn’t even matter! Nothing enraged him like this repeated failure. There was no other way he knew to approach it! He humiliated himself in front of everyone around him! And to top it all off, there was no more beer! 

        God, if only he could have one more beer. He could smell it, he could taste it! A Bud Light. The bitter taste and the burning carbonation! The memories of all those college parties, the foam that topped the glasses at the bars! No more sake! No more Red Light beer! He wanted to feel the cold aluminum in his hands to crack open the cold one and drink its cheap yet bold flavor as the dew moistened his hands. The scent filled his mind so strongly that it was all he could think about as he closed his eyes and savored the memories. He brought his hands towards his mouth, completely engrossed in his daydream, feeling the stream flow into his mouth and across his taste buds.

        He opened his eyes. His body was tense, and he looked straight in front of him. His hands were still freezing. 

       And within them was a beautiful blue can of Bud Light.


	13. Part 13: Unlimited Beer Works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff reaches 50 pages on my Google Drive! And also drinks a lot of beer.

        “You did what?!” Slav slammed his fists on the table and rose from his seat, staring at Biff in awe of what he just heard, his jaw hanging loose. The room fell completely silent, and all of the regulars nearby turned their heads in curiosity. Regaining his senses, he quickly composed himself and sat back down. “I don’t believe it, there’s no way you could do something like that so quickly. It’s only been a matter of days!” 

        “Like I told you, man! It appeared right in my hands! A Bud Light that tasted exactly the way it did back in America!” Biff put his hands behind his head and reclined in his seat. He could hardly remember such a good morning. After serving up another above-average round of breakfast, Biff had spent his remaining time trying in vain to magically create another Bud Light. But he wasn’t discouraged anymore. If he could do it once, he could do it again. It was only a matter of time. 

        “You’re worse than I thought,” James butt in jokingly, “After all that effort, you can’t even form one baang, yet once you finally get the hang of it you go straight for alcohol.” He took a bite out of his overcooked steak, immediately chugging his glass of water to wash it down. He immediately covered the rest in steak sauce. 

        “Hey, what the hell are you doin’, man?” Biff reached over and grabbed the sauce from out of his hand. “You can’t use steak sauce! You’re disrespecting the steak!” He exclaimed indignantly. James quickly snatched it back. 

        “Easy for you to say, you’re not the one eating this hunk of meat. It’s practically charred!” He continued pouring the sauce, but Biff swat it out of his hand. 

        “It’s disrespectful!” The two began squabbling and tussling over the table, and Slav laughed to himself before trying to break them up. 

        “You two fight like you’re married,” he said in jest, immediately causing the two to separate and sit back down. James nudged away his plate and grabbed a granola bar instead.

        “Biff,” Slav said as he left, “When you made the beer, do you remember how? Did you feel the shinsoo?”

        “Nah, I wasn’t thinking about Shinsoo or anything. I just… I just really wanted a beer, I guess. It plopped right into my hands.” He shrugged. Slav looked downward in thought. Biff gnawed at some jerky. 

        “Close your eyes.” Slav said.

        “What? Why?” Biff reluctantly closed his eyes.

        “What did the beer look like?” Slav asked him.

       “It looked like, uh… beer. I don’t know what to tell you. I guess it was kinda golden-brown? It had white bubbles foaming on top. It’s carbonated.”

        “Was it in a can or a bottle?”

        “It was in a can. It was a blue can and it said ‘Bud Light’ on it. The font was big and white, and the top and bottom were silver. It felt cold in my hands, freezing. Like there was condensation or something.”

        “Keep going,” Slav motioned despite Biff’s eyes being closed.

        “It’s a fuckin’ beer, man! How much more do you wanna hear?” Slav noticed that his concentration was breaking, prompting a more demanding response:

        “How did it taste, Biff? Tell me every detail! Don’t you want another one? Was it cold? Did it flow into you? What did the carbonation feel like?” He didn’t know what carbonation was, but anything to keep Biff going. If he could bring out another response, not only would it guarantee Biff’s talents, but it would make Yu Goslav one hell of a teacher. 

        “Man, stop asking me weird shit, nothing’s gonna’ happen.” Biff opened his eyes, irritated. But Slav did have one last trick up his sleeve as James came back.

        “Oh, well. I guess it was just a fluke. Hey, James. What do you say we grab a quick can of Blitzbeer before class? It’s probably better than a Bud Light or whatever it is anyway.”

        “I’m gonna’ give you one chance to take that back.” Biff said, glaring at Slav intensely. His pronounced browline made it all the more menacing. 

        “No, I bet it’s just some cheap beer from your home. Barely carbonated and tastes like rotting wheat.” Slav replied coolly, “Come on, James, let’s go into the kitchen.”

        “Even if it’s better than Bud Light, I can’t afford to dull my senses. But I’ll tag along.” James got up first.

        Biff immediately rose from his seat, red as a communist. He quickly reached across the table and punched Slav right in his calm and pristine face, knocking him out of his seat.  _ Biff sure is lively today _ , Hitomi thought.  _ Maybe his training won’t be so bad anymore. _

        “I can’t believe I teamed up with a couple of bums like you!” Biff shouted aggressively, “We got this god damn bird using steak sauce, and this jackass over here trying to tell me that this shitty Quant beer is is better than a can of bud light!” The other regulars stared at him in confusion as Biff continued to shout. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t like it! If that steak ain’t black as Africa, you don’t put sauce on it! The only people that do that are nine year olds and liberals!” James moseyed away a little, looking down.

        “And you!” Biff pointed and walked toward Slav, still on the ground. He glared down on him with ire. “How dare you compare that off-brand shit to Bud Light? You think that bland, bitter cup of poison can get anywhere close to a real beer? Bud Light has flow! It cleanses the throat and the spirit! The way it foams up when you pour it. The simple, bold flavor that makes you go ‘now THIS is a beer!’ the second you drink it. And if you try to tell me that fuckin’ Blitzbeer is even worthy of being next to Bud Light at the grocery store, well let me tell you my friend, that’s something I won’t stand for.” Biff was huffing and puffing, exhausted from his tirade. And below him, Slav was grinning. He felt a cold sensation in his right hand. 

        “Well?” Slav said, wiping the blood off of his nose. “Let me try one.”

        Biff froze for a moment before looking down at his hand, then couldn’t help but laugh. He’d been played too easily. “You damn bastard,” he smiled, tossing Slav the can of Bud Light, “enjoy it.” Slav got up and softly sipped it, then shot Biff a sly smile.

        “This isn’t bad at all.”

        “You all hear that?” Biff shouted to everyone in the room as he stood up on his chair. “Bud Light is a damn good beer! This round’s on me!” He pumped his fist in the air, and a third of the regulars joined in on a cheer. Whether through a true understanding of the process or just sheer memory and willpower, Biff created one can, and then another. It was the most free beer Evankhell’s Hell had ever seen. Nearly every regular left breakfast with a slight buzz. Even Temlin walked back to his table in the corner, taking a casual sip of his own can.

        “You sure you don’t want any? It’s not that bad,” He asked his compatriot with a slight smirk.

        The Princess was not amused.

 

        “Biff, you know what this is, right?” Slav asked him back 

        “Hell yeah, I know it like the back of my hand!” He boasted, taking a big swig of his own can. 

        “Biff, everything in this world is made of Shinsoo. This isn’t just beer. If you can keep making Bud Light like this…” 

        “I’d be the most powerful guy in the tower!” Biff shouted, rising excitedly.

        “Uh, no. Nothing close. Sit back down,” Slav stopped him, “But it would set you ahead of a lot of the regulars. With that kind of shinsoo flowing through you, you might be able to pull ahead very far.”

        “Well shit, I guess I’d better start drinking, then!” He laughed as he and his friends finished their drinks.

 

        Biff continued to drink until class, entering with a heck of a buzz. He felt the beer alright, but not enough to truly hamper his coordination. Slav was right in some way; He certainly felt something flowing through him, if it wasn’t necessarily power. He suspected he might be spending a while in the bathroom after class. After producing middling results in versatility training, it was time for Biff’s most anticipated activity: another sparring match. He immediately stepped up to Bel Berhino. 

        “Oh, you’re back, big guy,” He looked down on him with cocky eyes and a wide grin. “You want a rematch? You still can’t even use Shinsoo! What makes you think you can beat me?”” 

        “Guess again, champ.” Biff offered his own confident smile. A faint breeze blew back his hair a bit as he held out his hands, producing in them yet another Bud Light (Jesus, was this the sixth one?). Bel Berhino gave a snort. 

        “Getting cocky for just that? Are you going to drink away the pain like the rest of the week?” He jeered as Biff drank from the can. “I love people like you. You just keep talking and talking, making a big deal out of everything like you’re important. I guess you don’t remember what happened the last time you did that to the weirdo over there. But that’s alright,” He smacked his fist into his palm, “I’ll just have to remind you and put you in your place again!” 

        Biff finished his can, crushing it in his fist and throwing it away. Bel Berhino jumped back and held his hands outstretched, forming a respectable baang for the floor of tests. 

        “Heh heh,” he laughed, “Watch out, Biff! I’m gonna’ baang you with my baang again!”

        Biff grit his teeth and furrowed his brow. “I’ve had it with your gay shit! If you want me that badly, come at me or fuck right off!” Biff charged towards the bigger man, forcing Berhino to fire his baang on instinct. It was fast, but Biff used his arm to cover himself and brush it off, leaving a smoky bruise. His opponent tried to form another baang to reinforce his body, but with his weak concentration he could only manage a slight strengthening, even smaller than when he first faced Biff. Before he could react, Biff’s fist hit him like a truck. His abdomen crumpled under the pressure of Biff’s fist, and the force of the impact sent the eight-foot tall man flying across the platform. He pulled himself back from the edge and charged at Biff again, but he was too slow. The same as he had once done with James, Biff used his size to get under Berhino, lifting him with incredible strength. With the power of shinsoo flowing through him, Berhino felt as light as bud. He tossed him aside, and Berhino spent a moment keeling over on the ground. 

        “What the hell happened to you?” Berhino asked in pain. 

        Biff stared at him with disdain. “I learned Shinsoo, champ. Same as you. You gonna’ baang me again? Huh?” Biff kicked him in the gut. 

        “No! No, I won’t!” Bel Berhino coughed out in between kicks.

        “Say it!” Biff yelled at him.

        “I’m not gonna’ baang you! I’ll never baang you again!” 

        Biff leaned in close, enough for any other man to whisper sweet nothings into the ear of their lover, grabbing Berhino by the collar of his shirt. “You’re damn right you won’t.” But Biff was far from finished. Two platforms over, he saw his nemesis sparring with Vishra. She was obviously holding back, but he was putting up a fight. She blocked his punches with a little effort, but his shinsoo attacks left virtually no trace of existence. Biff was now a force to be reckoned with, however. He jumped over and interrupted their fight.

        “Hey, Vedala, take a breather. I can handle this one.” He ran his hand through his hair, which was now nearly long enough to be a full-on mullet.

        “You sure?” He laughed, still fighting her in the meantime, “She didn’t hold back too much last time, did she?”

        “Nah, I’ve got this.” Biff gave his belly a pat. 

        “Sorry, partner. It looks like this isn’t my dance.” Vishra quickly retreated to another platform before she could land another blow. The Princess stood silently, unamused at these developments. “You must really like humiliation,” she said, forming two baangs and using them on her own body. 

        “You and your boyfriend have a good thing goin’, don’t you?” She immediately tensed up and charged at him, but he withstood the blow. “A mean old bitch and a crafty bastard. You’re a real power couple!” He said with teeth clenched as he was close, but she quickly kicked him away. He slid back a few feet. 

        “I hope that beer lasts long,” she said calmly. “You’ll need it to.” She charged at him with her trademark speed, but Biff’s training had allowed him to track her better. He dodged her kick and blocked the next punch, then quickly pivoted and hit her in the side. The impact made her grunt and leap away, but he followed. She dodged his blows effortlessly before forming another baang. But Biff was still going in for a harder punch. “Hey, pay attention.” She said with a smirk, still through her cloak, causing Biff to look down at the glowing orb below.

        “Wait, when the hell did you-” But it was too late. He took the baang full force in the gut, flying across to the next platform. Although he landed pretty well on his feet and couldn’t feel too much thanks to the abundance of beer flowing through him, the blow still hurt like hell. It was dumb of him to follow so aggressively, but what the hell else was he going to do? Now was the worst time to pull back, for both himself and his foe. Both quickly ran towards each other and leaped into the air. As the Princess prepared a baang to blast him back to the ground with, Biff wound his fist and prayed to Ronald Reagan to help him defeat the evil empire that was Hendo Lok Aliana Zahard. And although his hair blew in the wind like the American Flag held high on Independence day, his prayers went unanswered. Too fast for human eyes, Hax appeared between the two and held them firmly in mid-air, floating on her lighthouse in between them.

        “That’s enough for today, my pupils! I must keep you fresh and healthy for tomorrow. That’s when your next test is, after all! Once you’re in the next test, you can fight to your hearts’ content!”

        “Wait, what?” Biff asked, bemused, “The next test is tomorrow? Nobody said anything about another test so soon!” 

        “It’s a way to track your progress, so to speak. And a way to give a little bonus reward to the winners. But there’s no need to be nervous, you two. I don’t think you’ll have to wait very long for your rematch at all!” 

 

        James Washington, meanwhile, had spent the day mastering the ability to fly in the dark. Through dark and narrow hallways filled with traps and pitfalls, he was happy to have been blessed with wings that could fly over so many obstacles. He would surely be the first to make it to the end. He turned a corner, seeing a faint light at the end of a pitch-black hallway. The perfect place for a trap.

        “Hey bird, your friend is getting pretty powerful, huh?” How did someone else beat him here? He nearly flew right into the regular in a daze, but pulled up and grounded himself right before they collided. His acquaintance didn’t flinch.

        “Why do you care, Vasquez?” James sneered at him. Temlin Vasquez always creeped him out, the way he seemed to watch people. James believed in honing one’s skills, but to observe his competition every second of the day was excessive.

        “You know it’s a scout’s duty to gather as much useful information as possible. I’d say learning to do that with Shinsoo off the bat is pretty useful, wouldn’t you?” He spoke casually, yet he must have been after something.

        “I don’t know how he does it; I only found out today. Shouldn’t you be more focused on your girlfriend?” James chuckled a little.

        “Ah, you’re as funny as you are slow.” Temlin replied nonchalantly. “I’ve been waiting here forever. 

        “Impossible! You must have just beaten me here. I’ve been taking the quickest paths possible, and flying through everything in the way!” It was true. Temlin really was only waiting for about forty seconds, but there was no way he’d actually admit it to James.

        “Slow in other ways, too. Biff Biggums isn’t like you and I, bird. I looked up Bud Light. Do you know where it’s from?” 

        “Probably from the outer tower somewhere.” 

        “It’s not. It doesn’t exist. I snagged Hitomi’s lighthouse earlier after I grabbed a can. There is no trace of a Bud Light anywhere in the inner or outer tower. That leaves only two possibilities. Either he comes from somewhere in here very secret, like one of FUG’s hidden lairs, or…” 

        “He’s from… the outside?!” 

        “Don’t let anyone hear that.” Temlin immediately rushed into him and shushed him. “That’s dangerous information. Don’t tell anyone, and if you care at all about climbing the tower, you’ll protect that secret at any cost.” 

        “Why the heck would you tell me something like this?” James was shocked at this news. It explained a lot, but it changed everything. If this got out, there would be a massive target painted on his back. But at the same time, being his friend made him all the more valuable. “And why the hell did you betray him and side with that Princess?”

        “If I just wanted to climb the tower as quickly as possible, I’d be with that guy for sure.” Temlin said, walking with James to the light ahead. “But nobody just climbs the tower for the sake of it. Besides, he doesn’t listen. He’d get me killed for sure.” 

        “Well, good luck. You’d better hope our groups don’t face each other in the next test, or you might need to rethink your strategy.” James sprinted ahead towards the finish. 

        “You underestimate me, James Washington,” James was again stunned to see Temlin already standing across the finish line, shining with the help of the backlight and holding a packet of papers, “Now let me tell you how to pass the next test. For you, me, the Princess, and all of our dear friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like James Washington


	14. Part 14: James and the Might of the Aztec

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Washington aims to recreate Aztec history on the Floor of Tests.

        “Come the hell on, James! How long do we have to wait before I can fight that bitch?” Biff sat and gnashed his teeth, talking into Toulalan’s lighthouse. He couldn’t help but react with a gentle smirk. 

        “Hopefully never. Just listen to Goslav and Toulalan, and be prepared to take point when they come for the flag,” James Washington replied through the second lighthouse as he flew through the dark. The corridors in the arena reminded him of the other labyrinth he used for scout training. Though he flew with caution, he was grateful. Everything so far had been exactly as Vasquez said, from the darkened arena to the team divisions. He recalled the rules laid out by Leero-Ro, another test administrator:

        “It has come to our attention that some of you show a greater promise than we initially conceived. We want to offer you all a new opportunity to advance more quickly, in the form of an extra test. And if you pass it, you immediately move up to the third floor to truly begin your climb.”

        “Hell yeah! Lay it on me, guy!” Biff immediately rose from his seat in excitement. The ranker snickered. James buried his beak in his wing in secondhand shame. 

        “That’s the spirit, Mister Biggums.” Leero-Ro patronized him. “Have any of you ever played a game called capture the flag?” James noticed most of the human regulars nodded, including Biff. He himself was unfamiliar. 

        “The rules are simple. You will all be split into groups of five, with each position being filled on the team. The red team has red badges, and the blue team has blue badges! So if you made good friends in your position classes, be be aware that your friend today may be your rival tomorrow. Two teams at a time will enter our special testing arena for a game of capture the flag. Just like a regular game, the first team that can successfully steal the other team’s flag and return it to their own base will win and move up. If nobody can steal the flag after ninety minutes, nobody wins. It will require intense cooperation from each position for a team to succeed. Just like on the rest of the floors, the key to success rests in your ability to work together.” 

        James squinted as he concluded his recollection. He hoped Biff would stay put, and that he would listen for once. But that was never a safe bet. The key to success in this final test was speed. The speed to pull this stunt off before anyone caught on. The speed to pull it off before his will began to waver. He knew Biff wouldn’t approve, but he hadn’t told Slav about his information either. He wondered whether Temlin had made a mistake in telling him over Slav as well. But James would grab every opportunity to climb the tower. Even if it was shifty, and he had to work with Vasquez, there were things that were important to him. People he had to meet. And he couldn’t afford to slow down. Biff would get over it when he was one step closer to his home, too. He pressed on through the corridors, hoping his enemy’s light-bearer wasn’t unpredictable. 

        Twenty minutes had passed, and James hadn’t seen a single person yet. It wouldn’t matter since he was shrouded in the darkness, but this definitely meant their offense was taking a different path. If this was indeed the fastest path, he might even be able to take out another one of their opponents on the way back. As much as he hated to admit it, Quant was an exceptional scouting mentor. He was thinking differently, able to anticipate where people would go more often, better understand the terrain, and quickly evaluate the capabilities of his opponents. Weeks ago, he couldn’t even see in the dark! Maybe he could have been a good Silver Dwarf. 

        His musings were cut short by a momentary glow and flash in the distance. Before James could focus his vision and make out what caused it, he quickly diverted, rolling through the air as a sharp red spear pierced through the darkness. James recognized that glow now: Montezuma had improved since the last time they saw each other, at least in vision and power. Although it seemed his aim still left something to be desired. James chuckled and grounded himself. 

        “Not a bad throw, Montezuma, but your tattoos give you away!” He shouted, still running towards his rival. “I’ll show you who’s really fit to fly up to the next floor!” 

        “You still can’t shake that attitude, huh? Quant may not have taught you humility, but it’s not that hard to clip a bird’s wings!” Montezuma jumped back, the tattoos in his legs glowing brightly, and equipped another spear from his arms inventory. James reactively stepped back himself, and as Montezuma released his second spear, James barely spun out of the way, pushing himself up into the air with his wings once again. That one was close. 

        James focused himself as he landed; his opponent had no way to prepare a new spear so quickly. This was the best time to conduct an evaluation: Montezuma was a spear bearer, making him more dangerous at a range and leaving James particularly vulnerable to being struck out of the sky. But what really set him apart were his tattoos. When activated, they emitted a bright light, greatly raising the strength of individual body parts. He could jump higher, run faster, and throw harder. He had the advantage in both range and power. James’ victory, therefore, relied on two factors: Aerodynamics and speed. 

        He closed in quickly, as Montezuma was pulling out another spear. Leaping into the air, he curved and glided around the Aztec king. His opponent turned quickly to match him and readied his spear. James instinctually wanted to dart away and fly higher, but he resisted, waiting instead for that ominous red glow. In his thorough and ongoing analysis, James noticed the same glow in his eyes. Usually so easygoing, all pretense of a friendly rivalry had faded away. James had only seen so fierce a face once, on his old ex-girlfriend. Once a somewhat cute yet sardonic and charming Hawkess, James now viewed her as a cold and barren raven incapable of love and empathy. Now she was only…

        Montezuma’s eyes flared with power. Now known to him as Shinsoo, it coursed through his tattoos like blood in his veins. There was no more hesitation or humor left in him. All thoughts of the past and future left his mind with one last reflection on the burdens he carried.  _ With this victory, all of my sacrifices will be worth it _ .  _ Heed my words, spirits within. You will not have died in vain. _ It was not an apology. It was a promise. Now more than ever, that which he held within was under his control. And he would show James Washington the folly of his fleeting distraction.

        James had scarcely processed the spear flying toward him. It was like teleportation, and there was no telling when it had left Montezuma’s hand at all. He lifted himself up higher, but a searing pain cut through his belly. He squawked out in pain and fluttered to the ground. His wing covered a long gash, soaking with blood. 

        “Montezuma!” James shouted at him, trying to recover, “You could have killed me!” The spear had luckily only grazed him, but it was still a powerful blow. James scarcely had time to get up again before Montezuma closed in, another spear in hand. “Snap out of it, Montezuma!” James grit his teeth and swiftly glided behind him before he could strike up close. His foe tracked him perfectly, as if he could smell the blood. He thrust his spear forward, but James ducked, hardening a wing with shinsoo and striking him in the gut. Montezuma flinched backward, but James was too slow to follow up. He wouldn’t be able to continue much longer with the pain in his stomach. Even years after she left, his ex-girlfriend still found ways to hurt him. 

        “You’re too hesitant, James. If you keep acting like that, you’ll get killed up there. Now just be a good little bird and wait for me to win this test and go up!” He kicked James away into the sky and prepared to throw his spear before James could recover. This couldn’t be the end for him, could it? After all the preparation Temlin went through, would Montezuma’s surprising strength spell the end of it all?  _ No. _ This had to work, there was no other way. Temlin’s plan was flawless, and if they failed, it would only be a matter of time here before others realized how dangerous Biff Biggums really was. And that might be the end for all of them. Yet the spear was already there to bring an end to James as well, meeting his eyes a few feet away. Montezuma really was impressive. 

        But James wasn’t ready for the end. Biff’s perseverance and indignance flashed in his mind. And even more profoundly, the face of his master. To accept the end here would mean never seeing her again. How could she possibly be proud to see him like this? He flipped dynamically through the air, feeling the wind spear pass by and immediately diving towards Montezuma again. This time, he wasn’t prepared. Though his pain was intense, James continued to charge, diving into him with a sharpened and reinforced beak. Montezuma could hardly block it, the impact pushing him back and nearly knocking him off balance. But James pressed on. His talons dug into Montezuma’s stomach after a raised kick, leaving serious markings. Just as his master once taught him, one opening could change everything. 

        The flames that once filled Montezuma’s eyes now flickered and wavered, though his spirit did not. He defended with all his might, retaliating with blocks and kicks using the strength of his tattoos. But it was not enough. He could defend against any blunt impacts, but James’ talons scratched and slashed him, threatening to whittle his blood away until he collapsed as a dried-out husk. He could only hope James’ wound caught up with him before it was too late. 

        James was well aware of his limitation, but with newfound focus, he had the upper hand. Another kick caught Montezuma’s right arm, causing him to pull it back. In what may have been his final chance to strike, he opened up his inventory once more and pulled out a final spear. Indeed, Montezuma himself was well aware of the same lesson: One opening could change everything. _ Montezuma, only when we are at our weakest does our true strength begin to show _ . His father’s words echoed in his very soul, and Montezuma’s tattoos gleamed in that black and barren hallway like a cosmic cataclysm.

        “Quetzal,” he whispered, drawing upon his father, his grandfather, and all those who came before. That cruel and ghastly ritual which had taken them all had finally brought them closer together again. In this moment lay his greatest desire. He would defeat James once and for all, capture the flag, climb the tower, and return to rule his people and bring glory and prosperity once again. He grabbed his spear, and his entire body shined with that unholy red radiance. With one final breath, his arm outstretched, he prepared to land the final blow while James was up close and unmissable. 

        He thrust with all his might. But the spear hit the floor with a clang. “It is you who is too hesitant, Montezuma,” James’ breath hit his face with a terrible stench, and the radiant heir could do nothing but convulse as his arm went limp. He didn’t even know what happened, but it soon became clear as a shriek filled the arena. James did not simply wait for him to prepare the final blow. The eagle had reinforced his wing shinsoo, and as Montezuma’s arm grabbed the spear and prepared to thrust, he had used the opening to sever his nerves with a razor wing. His arm was now useless, devoid of feeling. 

        “NO!” Montezuma shouted at him, “You have no idea what you’ve done!” He kneeled on the ground, tears filling his eyes. “How can I climb like this? How am I supposed to return to my kingdom?” 

        “I don’t know,” James stood over him coldly. He did not try to comfort him. He knew it was futile. He looked past him to check for reinforcements. 

        “My father, his father, and his father before him trusted me with this task and sacrificed themselves so that I might have their power!” James did not understand these vague words, and could not have known the sheer madness of how that line of kings gained their tattoos. “Finish me off. My kingdom dies with me.” 

        James stared down at that man, emanating such traditional honor, and frowned. “I don’t have that power. Your arm is simply disabled. I am sure a doctor can fix it up after the t-” Montezuma got up and clutched James’ neck like he was a scared chicken. His eyes burned with rage. “If you don’t finish what you started, I will.” His arm, trembling, squeezed tighter. James, however, easily raised his arm again and left a deep cut on him. Montezuma released him, screaming and writhing in pain.

        “Enough. There is nothing else you can do. It was never going to be any different.” James walked up to him. 

        “What do you mean?” Montezuma looked up at him. “What do you mean?!” He shouted, but the ominous eagle struck him once more and knocked him out. He could say nothing about Temlin’s betrayal. He only hoped he could heal up and succeed during the next test… not that he cared, very much. In one swift and hopefully undetectable motion, he tore off Montezuma’s shiny red badge like a trophy and dropping his own. He continued to fly through the corridors, albeit a fair bit slower than before. Before too long, his wound had stopped bleeding, but it still hurt like hell. 

        “How are things on your end?” He communicated through his pocket into Toulalan’s lighthouse.

        “We’re doing fine. We had a rather interesting encounter with a rogue wave controller, but Slav took care of it rather easily. Biff and I barely had to lift a finger!” Toulalan responded cheerfully. At their barren end of the arena, he spoke through his lighthouse near the flag while Biff and Slav stood watch near a K.O.’d regular by the name of Smitty. 

        “Yeah, he kicked his ass alright!” Biff yelled into the lighthouse.

        “He could scarcely make a Baang. It was honestly a little pathetic.” Slav added nonchalantly. Their fight was far less intense. “He charged in hoping to destroy us all with his shinsoo, but he couldn’t aim even when he managed to form a baang. It was like he only expected one of us to be guarding the flag.” Of course, he  _ did _ expect only one of them to guard the flag, as Temlin had informed him before the game began. Needless to say, Slav handled him with ease. The flag was safe and sound. “Have you encountered anyone yet?” 

        “Montezuma,” James frowned, flying through the darkness. “He’s disabled, now.”

        “What?” A southern drawl belched through the lighthouse. “The hell did you put him in a wheelchair for?” 

        “I didn’t,” he replied seriously, “I merely cut his arms and took away his throwing ability. He put up an impressive fight. He would make a very good sparring partner for you, Biff.” 

        “Hell yeah, I’ve always wanted to fight that guy! You should have called me over!” Slav touched his shoulder to calm him.

        “Stick to the plan, Biff. Nobody knows when the Princess will come here. We all need to be prepared,” Slav said. “Any word from our spear bearer?”

        “Slav is right,” James agreed, “a man your size is best left defending the flag and making sure people like the Princess and Temlin can’t take it. The latter is sneaky, so you can’t stray off or he might do something to you. I suspect he got to our spear bearer like I got to theirs.” Their own spear bearer, Bertuccio, was not so competent as the rest, and was sent by James to guard another route and to provide an early warning. It was the last time they heard from him.

        “Yeah, like what?” Biff boasted, “What is he gonna’ do, take me away in the night in a big black van? I think he should gain a few pounds before tryna lure me away with free candy!” He laughed heartily. Slav and Toulalan glanced at each other. James went silent, ending the call. He had reached the flag. He scanned the area, looking for a defensive light-bearer, and reached for his prize. 

        Out of the corner of his eye, a barrier threatened to push him into the wall and trap him, but be quickly darted out of the way.  _ A clever but childish trap _ , he thought to himself. He flew up towards the ceiling and found his prey, a rather short and plain girl named Priscilla sitting on her lighthouse far from the ground. Although she tried to set up another barrier to trap him and then clip his wings with ease, he was too quick. And his leisurely flight towards the flag had given him time to recover his strength a bit. She was helpless as he quite literally kicked the lighthouse out from under her. She fell to the ground with a  _ thud _ . He checked her pulse. “Still breathing,” he whispered with relief. Would have been a little awkward otherwise. He tore her red badge off yet again, preparing to make his way back to Temlin. Though he was hurt, the plan would still succeed.

        Yet, he hesitated. Biff was a force to be reckoned with now that he could use shinsoo and make the beer. He may have even been a match for the Princess. And Slav was surely the best wave controller among the regulars at this point. Was there a chance… they could win this game legitimately? There was no clean way to pull this off. But if James could free Biff, Slav, and himself from the machinations of Temlin and Aliana, he reckoned the journey ahead would be far smoother. He grabbed the flag silently, and prepared to make his way back to home base, flying back towards Montezuma to reclaim the badge he had dropped. Biff would forgive his minor treachery. Temlin wouldn’t, but that was alright. He would never see him again anyway. 


	15. Part 15: Biff and the Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff attempts to explain global politics.

###  Part 15: Biff and the Alliance

        It had been a few minutes since their last contact with James Washington, who was well on his way to the flag and would soon secure the route for Biff to move through and meet him halfway. It had been around a half hour, giving them ample time to execute the rest of their strategy. In fact, they had so much time, one might even say they were a bit bored. Toulalan was diligently surveying the immediate area with his lighthouse, while Slav was humming an upbeat melody as he lay on the ground, gazing at a pitch-black ceiling high above. Biff, meanwhile, was sitting cross-legged, drinking. 

        “...Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Slav inquired, watching Biff finish yet another beer. “I know you’re excited about your new talent, but this seems a bit excessive.” Toulalan nodded in agreement behind him. This arena was too cold. Out here in this dim and desolate space, he at least understood why Biff wanted to drink. He was getting bored.  _ If only I could have gone with James,  _ he thought. But he knew it was the right decision to stay and let him scout the battlefield out. With his wings and vision, he was far faster than any of them, and they needed all the firepower they could get in case the Princess arrived on the offensive team. 

        “Aw hell, this is nothing,” Biff laughed and tossed the can aside into the pile, wiping his mouth onto his sleeve. He grinned at Slav, “For a guy my size, I need at least four more to get drunk. I’m only just starting to feel the buzz.” He tightened his hat and stood up. “Don’t you worry, boys. When they come for us, we’ll get ‘em good. I’ll punch that Princess bitch straight into the wall.” His hand caught his fist with a smack. 

        “Don’t be so sure,” Slav said, parting his hair and looking marginally less like a school shooter, “This won’t be a one-on-one like in your training. She’ll have backup, and you’ll need it as well if we want to prevail. That’s whether we go to them, or they come to us.” 

        “Come on, man, loosen up. I’m not that dumb.” he replied, looking back at his teammates, “You nerdy types are too on edge. I’ll take care of this nice and easy. You two just guard the flag, and I’ll keep their guys plenty busy. Just like a game of rasslin’ back in high school.” The other two looked confused.

        “Your family must have been pretty rich if someone like you could even get into school,” Slav chuckled. Toulalan put a hand up to get their attention, but went unnoticed. 

        “Hell’s that supposed to mean?” Biff snapped at him. “I did just fine in school. Only reason I’m not a bigwig somewhere at some company is ‘cause they couldn’t keep me cooped up in a boring office day in, day out!” Whether or not he was lying depended on the definition of “just fine.” But Ds get degrees, and even if Slav and Toulalan knew what that saying meant, they wouldn’t have been able to dispute it. 

        “Most children here get tutored in their families’ academies. The richer and more powerful your family is, the better you’re educated. But I assume if you haven’t heard of any of these families, there might be a different system for that as well.” 

       “You’re damn right, there is. Where I’m from, everyone goes to school. Although the shit they teach you gets a little wacky, sometimes.” Slav focused on him, curious to hear more. Toulalan stepped forward as if about to speak, but missed the opportunity. “Damn common core bullshit, turnin’ these kids into pussies nowadays. Can’t even call it The War of Northern Aggression anymore.” Biff glumly folded his arms and muttered to himself, but the other two’s eyes widened.

        “A place where everyone goes to school. That’s certainly something,” Slav said. 

        “Hey, guys-” Toulalan was interrupted yet again.

        “Better than getting homeschooled for sure, though. Those kids are fuckin’ weird.” Biff chuckled. 

        “Well I know how that feels, at least.” Slav cracked a smile.

        “Guys-” He just couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

        “I tell ya, we had this one kid who transferred from homeschool into my high school-”

        “GENTLEMEN!” Toulalan screamed, silencing the entire arena. “Why isn’t Bertuccio back yet?” They all stood around, silently, pensively stroking their chins for the better half of a minute. Finally, Biff had the courage to hazard a guess:

        “Who’s Bertuccio?” Toulalan put a palm to his face. Slav looked just as confused as Biff.

        “What do you mean, who’s Bertuccio?” Toulalan lectured him, “Our spear bearer? Who we sent to defend the other route in case they were trying to sneak through there? How could you both forget about him?”

        “Well, he was only mentioned in the last chapter,” Slav mused, “And he doesn’t have a cameo in the main comic unlike you…”

        “That’s not the point! Is that all you two think about? Goodness, we might as well be completely in the dark now! They’re probably almost here!” 

        “Yeah, no shit.” Biff replied. “That’s probably where their wave controller came from. Toulalan, ring James up on the pocket, we should tell him.” 

        “I should have paid more attention.” Slav lamented, turning his head towards Biff. “I was too concentrated on watching a certain someone chug like a maniac.” 

        “Enough, I’ll contact him.” He input the command in his lighthouse, its blue light illuminating what might have been the most unremarkable face of all time. He swept his bangs away, revealing a furrowed brow. “James, it’s Toulalan. Goodness, I feel stupid for none of us realizing this earlier, but we’ve been out of contact with Bertuccio since he left. We think their wave controller must have knocked him out.” Biff and Slav glared at him, unamused at being thrown under the bus as well. Slav clutched the bright blue badge on his shirt with force.

        “It doesn’t matter. At this rate, we’ll be victorious within twenty minutes. Just hold down our own flag until I get back.” James’ voice buzzed in with little interference as he whizzed through the labyrinthian pathways. 

        “What do you mean?” Toulalan asked, “Is it safe to move more through? Do you want Slav or Biff to come and assist you? I suppose we would have used Bertuccio, ideally, but-” James cut him off from the other end as he turned a corner into another hallway. Gray faded into black as the path continued into the horizon.

        “No, that won’t be necessary. I met their own light bearer guarding the flag. It seems my scouting has improved. She barely knew I was there. I dispatched her with ease, and I’m on the way back now. Biff, Goslav, are you listening?”

        “Y-yeah, course we are!” Biff retorted as he gazed into the distance, buzzed. “Speed it up, then. I can’t wait to get off this damn floor!” 

        “Listen.” James replied seriously. “The last two opponents are probably close. You are going to have your hands full with the princess, and there’s probably no way any of us can beat her. But Biff, you need to hold her back as best you can, or we have no chance of winning. Slav, watch his back, and keep an especially close eye on that other regular with her. He seems much weaker, but there’s no telling what kind of shady tricks he has up his sleeve. I’ll be back soon enough to distract-” The feed terminated as the lighthouse dimmed its glow. 

        “Hey, what the hell happened?” Biff shouted, turning around and moving towards Toulalan, “Why’d that thing, uh…”

        “Cut out?” Toulalan finished.

        “Yeah. Did he lose wifi?” 

        “What’s wifi?” He asked, confused. Biff grunted.  _ Lost in translation again. Probably called Shinsoonet or some shit here.  _ “Ah, if you mean the Shinsoonet connection,” Toulalan continued.  _ God damn it _ , Biff thought. “The connection is still up. He just ended the call, though.” 

        “Biff, Toulalan,” Slav grabbed their attention, standing a few meters away with his arms folded. “Don’t you think our plan’s gone a little too smoothly?” Biff glanced at him through his sunglasses, confused. Toulalan’s blank, plain face betrayed a certain perception hidden under his bangs. 

        “What do you mean? It’s a great plan,” Biff chuckled. 

        “Well, it might not be so bad in a normal game,” Slav responded, uneasy. “But against a Princess of Zahard? They’re supposed to be some of the most powerful people in the Tower, but somehow James Washington, an unremarkable bird-man, can steal their flag without running into her, and our only teammate unaccounted for is Bertuccio?”

        “Oh, so now you remember Bertuccio,” Toulalan chided him.

        “Yes, Toulalan, I remember Bertuccio. My point is that the only reason we’ve gotten this far into the match is that they’re planning something of their own. And there are only two reasons James would end the call like that. Either he got the chance to sneak past them, or-”

        “So he’s been caught by those damn bastards.” Biff grinded his teeth and held out his hand to create another Bud Light, “So what the hell are we doing? Let’s get the heck after him, he’s got the flag!” He popped the tab and began to chug.

        “No, he was very clear about us staying here, and we really do need to be prepared when the finally come to get the flag. He wouldn’t try to fight them. He’s probably trying to find a way past them.” Slav retorted.

        “Ha, James? You didn’t see what he tried to do to me back when I first got here. He might run away from that Princess, but if that Vasquez guy is alone, then you bet he’s gonna’ try to prove himself.” Biff continued to drink.

        “Did you even hear him? He clearly said we need to be worried about him as well, so I really think it’s bes-” 

        “I don’t care, Slav!” Biff interrupted him, adjusting his sunglasses. “Back in America, we got these things called alliances. And that means when one of our friends is in trouble, we gotta’ go help ‘em out. Now, you and me and James, we have an alliance. And that means that when James is in trouble, it’s our job to go and get him out of it. The only reason I’m not a dirty Commie is because my country, and  _ my people _ honor our alliances!” He finished his beer and began running out into the hall.

        “Biff!” Slav called out to him, “How stupid can you get?! You don’t know the layout! We can honor our alliance by winning the game for him! What if the Princess gets here?” Slav continued to voice his concerns and reprimand Biff’s stupidity, but his remarks were cut short as a cold, metal can smacked into his forehead. “Goodness!” Slav cried out.

        “You dumb idiot!” Biff pointed at him, “How the hell are we supposed to win the game if he’s trapped near them and he’s got their flag? Whatever. If you’re too scared, I’ll go and rescue him myself.” He turned around for the final time, and started running. 

        Contrary to popular belief, beer doesn’t always make you slower. Biff felt light as a feather as he hurdled down the hallways despite looking like a bag of bricks glued together with lard and conservatism. One bleak, gray hallway after another, he continued running in hopes that perhaps James truly was safe, and they’d be able to meet up and run right back to capture that flag once and for all. But in the back of his mind, he recognized Slav may have had a point. It was all too obvious in hindsight that something urgent had happened, and if he was in trouble, there was no way he’d be able to take on both of them. _Gah_ , he thought, _if only he would squawk or something,_ _I’d at least know which way to go_! This place was like a maze, and while he could understand how stupid it seemed in hindsight, it was definitely a good thing he himself wasn’t the one trying to find a route to the flag. 

_         Caw,  _ A voice called faintly in the distance. Biff paused and chuckled. “Just my luck…” He muttered to himself, taking a left at the next fork ahead. The hallways seemed to be getting darker as he continued to run and follow James’ call. “God damn, can’t see shit with these sunglasses anymore,” he again said to himself, panting as he removed them and placed them in his pocket… The one in his pants, not the one that does translations.  _ Caw _ . he heard it again, this time louder. “James?” Biff shouted. He must have really been in trouble to make such pained and high-pitched bird noises. “I’m coming, wait for me!” 

        After just over three more minutes of running, James’ call was as close as ever, though hidden in the shadows. Biff slowed to a walk, and the grunts of his heavy breathing filled the room. The first four steps he took after that were solid, but the 5th landed with a quiet  _ splash _ . Beneath his foot lay a dark and sticky liquid. It smelled metallic. Biff froze, concentrating on its source: A thin, bald regular, bruised and battered, laying side by side with his spear. Luckily, it was not a bald eagle. 

        “Oh, thank God it’s not James.” Biff sighed in relief before remembering, “Oh wait, but that means… Oh geez. Ah, crap… I forget your name, uh… God damn it.” He hit himself on the head in an effort to jog his memory while a faint breeze crept through the blackened hall. “Ber...nie? Berenstain? Nah, neither of those.” He activated his pocket. “Call Toulalan,” He chuckled anxiously. 

        “What is it, Biff?” Toulalan hastily answered through his lighthouse.

        “What’s that other guy’s name? You know, our other teammate?” 

        “Bertuccio.” Toulalan buried his hands in his face on the other end.

        “Well… I found him,” He placed his hand on Bertuccio’s diaphragm. He was still warm and breathing, but barely. He was completely unconscious. “We might wanna end this game soon and get him looked at.”

        “Well, if you can bring him back here, we can try to look after him, at least.” Slav’s voice chimed in.

        “Nah, no can do. James is still out there. I’ll just have to patch him up here for now. See you boys soon.” Biff started to take off his shirt, revealing a lumpy mass of skin and hair, somewhat less spherical than before.  _ Progress, baby,  _ he noted to himself as he used it to wrap a wound around Bertuccio’s waist. Biff’s extra-large shirt fit perfectly. 

       “Biff, wai-” One of them tried to say before he ended the call on his own. Complain, complain, complain. At least he and James were seriously willing to take some god damn action! 

        “Sorry, bud. I’ll get you back soon enough. We just need that flag.” Biff said to Bertuccio, leaning over him. He stood up once again to continue his search. But much to his surprise, he did not have to look far. For at that moment, his eyes glimpsed the reflection of a bright blue badge, and right above it, the face of the very devil herself. He froze as her deep, soft voice enveloped him, whispering a single sound: 

 

_         “Caw.” _

 

       James slid against the wall as he heard a deep and manly cry from a far. With his wound from Montezuma reopened, he had little time before he was out of commission. “Damn you. You’re prepared for everything. Damn you, damn you.” It was all he could utter through his beak. 

        “And you weren’t? I’m disappointed in you, James Washington. You made the wrong choice.” Temlin Vasquez stepped him like a new moon in the night sky. He was dressed in full black, nearly impossible to distinguish from the scenery without noticing his new red cuts and scratches. “So. Should I just make you lose the game, or should I kill you right here?” He twirled his needle in his hand. 

        “You’d have done this at some point sooner or later,” James slowly got up, glaring into the eyes of his oppressor, “I know you would just use us for your scheming. Isn’t that what you’re doing, even now?” 

        “You shouldn’t let your paranoia get the better of you.” Temlin appeared in front of him. James didn’t even see him take a step. “Let’s not forget who’s actually betraying who.” He punched James in the gut, aggravating his wound, before kicking him. Miraculously, James used all of his effort to land on his feet, catching himself before slamming into the wall again. “I had no intention of breaking our little alliance. I thought we could be like pen pals, exchanging information from afar. Was it really so hard to trust me for ninety minutes, if it even took that long? We could have even kept up the pretense of this game! The Princess and I would hurry over and have your friends keep us busy at their base. You already have our extra badges! It would have been so easy had you just came back and made the switch, you know? But now that you’ve given us cause for this detour, I’m going to have to ask you for those back. I’ll kill you here, take your flag with my Princess, and we won’t even have to cheat in the slightest.” He smiled and chuckled, furrowing his brow. “I am impressed you managed to get so far with our own flag, though. But tell me, James Washington, How do you still intend to win this game when you have the right flag and the wrong badge?” 

        James chuckled, unable to hold in a painful cough. “That’s a great question. But pay it no mind, for my promise was to help that fat old man climb. If he makes it up right here, I’m confident that I can follow shortly after.” So Temlin didn’t know. He still had a card up his sleeve after all. 

       “I wouldn’t be so sure!” Temlin voiced hastily as he rushed in with a thrust. This time, James managed to dodge, subduing his opponent from behind and grazing him with a razor wing. Temlin inhaled through his teeth, quickly responding with a graze of his own. James flew into the air, getting out of Temlin’s range. He tread in the air, flapping his wings, recovering some of his energy but not his blood, which dripped inches away from Temlin’s feet. He stood and observed, almost bored. “All birds have to land at some point,” he said with disinterest, raising his needle and tracing the bird’s position. Another loud boom was heard not far away. 

        James suddenly dropped, gliding slowly, almost flat on his belly like a leaf falling to the ground. A big, feathery leaf. Temlin observed with suspicion, still following with the tip of his needle. “Getting tired?” Temlin taunted him, “You’ll land eventually. You’re not so far that I can’t just reach out and  _ prick _ you-” He thrust once again into the air right into the spot where James’ belly hovered, but for once, Temlin was too slow. His eyes widened in rare surprise. To evade him like that in the darkness was unexpected, but he had little time to dwell on it. To his right, James had rolled out of the way and was careening toward him, on track to impale him with his beak. He barely dodged with all the grace of a bullfighter in training. Things were getting a little stressful.

        James ran in a wide circle, maintaining his flight speed and using his wings to direct himself once again towards his foe, but he was too visible with such white feathers in the darkness. He charged with impressive speed and intense focus, yet soon realized his target had vanished in the shadows. He barely had time to slow down and turn his head when his thin and hollow legs were grabbed from below. Had Temlin laid down on the ground when he was turning? Before he could consider how, he was slammed back onto the ground with surprising strength, the impact softening from his flapping wings’ resistance. He cried out with a loud squawk, but Temlin was deaf to his groans. James tried to stand back up, but was again blown back into the wall with a powerful kick. More blood escaped him, from both his belly and his mouth. 

        He began to shake. He lost the strength to think, to swipe, and to strengthen himself. He could barely flap his wings anymore. His shaking turned to trembling. His eyes, so determined and focused before, were frenzied, wide, and watery. As his blackened and bloody reaper approached him, raising his needle, he thought of his master for perhaps the final time. In those final seconds of his beating heart, he confessed all to her. His love, his respect, and his shame and regret for not being able to meet her and make her proud after all. Quant was right. The birds all die. He was no different. And in this desolate arena, none would mourn him but himself. 

 

_         SHHHHUNK. _

 

        James watched, completely frozen as the needle lodged itself into a wall right above his head. Before either of them knew it, Temlin had collapsed onto his knees in front of him, scraped and hammered by debris from the wall behind him, becoming enveloped in a cloud of dust and light. A  _ thud _ and a deep grunt were heard as a large mass hurtled towards the wall next to the bird, moaning and stretching in pain. He couldn’t believe it. He could only gaze.

        “Heyyyyyyyy, buddy.” Biff smiled as he grit his teeth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the end of the arc!


	16. Part 16: Biff Biggums' Big Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff Biggums' Big Battle comes to a thrilling conclusion.

        Grunts and coughs filled the arena as the thick cloud of dust began to settle. Biff and James lay slumped against the wall, looking up with indignation at their foes. Bright red and blue badges faintly shimmered, reflecting what dim light still remained. An uneasy peace took the regulars as they caught their breath. 

        “I see you came after all,” James gasped faintly. Despite his exasperation, a sigh of relief soon escaped his beak.

        “You think I’d trust your sorry feathered ass alone? Like hell.” Biff retorted sorely as he lifted his arm to wipe off an amalgamation of blood, sweat, and debris from his mouth. James let out a small smile. Put through a wall, and he still had that kind of attitude. 

        “You’re a loud, belligerent drunk until the end.” He said with bated breath. Biff chuckled and coughed.

        Dim shadows darkened their faces as Temlin recovered, wiping off his own blood as he approached to recover his needle. 

        “That was quite the entrance, Princess. I’m awestruck.” He said sardonically, sweeping his hair.

        “What a diligent servant. That’s enough flattery.”

        An imposing silhouette spoke coldly through the hole where a thick wall once stood. As she stepped through, Biff finally looked upon his tormentor. It was only too fitting. Blood red eyes glimmered through her auburn bangs with a cold fury. Her pale skin seemed ghostly under a set of jagged black and maroon armor, complete with spiked shoulder pads out of a cruel child’s medieval fantasy. Biff could almost laugh out of spite; she reminded him of the one and only time he and Darlene tried S&M. All she needed was the whip. Tall and defined, she seemed to tower over them all. Their lives were in her hands. 

        “We’re ending this game early.” Temlin said to her, looking at James with disdain. 

        “You presume too much, Temlin.” She scolded him. “I wouldn’t have allowed it any other way.”

        “So you were in on this, too?” James began to regain his strength. Temlin shot him an angry glance.

        “On what?” She first snapped at James, then focused towards Temlin. 

        “You didn’t tell your Princess, Vasquez? You’re even more audacious than I thought. It was a perfect plan, really. While you two slowly trek towards our flag, you leave your own teammates completely defenseless so I can sneak up and take their badges. You would defeat our team, capture the flag, but by the time you brought it back, I’d have switched our team’s badges and the administrators would be none the wiser. We all get to climb up faster, and Temlin gets a whole crew of monsters to rely on while he climbs in the shadows.” James sneered. 

        “You little snake…” She contemplated. 

        “Princess-” Temlin began to explain himself, but was cut short by the slam of a steel fist against his face. He crashed into the wall opposite Biff and James, his face bearing a fresh coat of red paint.

        “Silence.” She masked her fury with little success. “The audacity to even consider using a Princess of Zahard and going against her will. Do you not believe in my omnipotence, and hedge your bets with these idiots? It’s insulting.” Her fist shook with rage, clenched tightly enough to bleed. “ _ This will not go unpunished _ .” 

        “James,” Biff panted as she lectured her servant, “What the hell’s going on?” 

        “I’m sorry, Biff,” he replied, “The quicker we can get out of this place, the better. I thought this would be our best chance.” 

        “Good call on that one, bud. This is a goddamn rodeo.” He inhaled through his teeth, watching the Princess lecture and abuse her ever more dazed scout.  _ Bastard barely deserves it,  _ he couldn’t help but think. After a brief, rare reflection, he turned to James. His lecture could wait. “Hey… you said you got the flag, right?” 

        James lifted his left wing to reveal a small red flag clipped to his feathers, and a blue badge underneath. “So much for this.” He sighed as the Princess fixated her attention back on the other team. 

        “Temlin,” She spoke softly. She slowly walked towards James and Biff, still slouched against the wall. Her boots clanked against the floor. “Here’s the first lesson I’ll teach you.” Though her voice was calm, a gleam of light sparked life in her eyes as her lips couldn’t help but part and smile. She reached above James’ head and grabbed his needle. She squatted, examining him with scrutiny. A cold sweat enveloped him. Every part of his body screamed, but no sound escaped him. No movement. No breath. She pulled back her arm. “Temlin. Servants don’t get to have pawns.” 

        “HEY, PRINCESS!” Biff screamed in her ear as his fist rocketed towards her, amplified by numerous bud lights, impacting her jaw. His revenge sent her tumbling yards away. “James,” He stood, panting, his entire arm red with fury. “ _ Run. _ ” 

        Adrenaline filled his wings as he immediately darted off towards home base. Temlin looked over and laughed. What seemed like a combination between a roar and a hiss escaped the princess’ clenched teeth. “GO. KILL HIM.” It was all she could do not to scream at the top of her lungs. 

        “He doesn’t even have his own badge anymore. Why would he abandon his own squad...” He paused.

        “You really trusted his loyalty in the first place? You’re pathetic.” She got up and threw the needle towards him. He immediately came to his senses and grit his teeth, disgusted with himself. 

        “Fuck.” He grabbed the needle and slipped into the shadows. 

        “Finally got my payback for all those walls you put me through. You two thought you were so clever, huh? Guess you bit off a little more than you could chew, Princess!” He said mockingly. She rushed towards him, but Biff dodged out of the way. Her punch was brutish, crude, and inaccurate. 

        “How  _ dare _ you speak to me that way,” she retorted in between strikes, Biff narrowly dodging them all. Very narrowly, in fact, considering his size. 

        “Back where I’m from, we’ve got this thing called freedom of speech. I guess it doesn’t translate that well in this shithole,” He broke into a smile before another fist immediately wiped it off his face. He growled. “You know, when I get back home to my wife, this is really gonna’ put all my fights with her in perspective. You’re a real nutcase, you know that?” He got up once more with a renewed nosebleed.

        “A wife? You? What a disgusting thought. Who would ever want to be near such a pathetic and foul-mouthed waste of space? In this tower, the only ones allowed to speak are the ones with the power to back it up. But someone as loud as you shouldn’t worry. I’ll still allow you to scream as I kill you,” She kicked him in the gut, but failed to knock him over. His power had grounded him more than she had anticipated.

        Biff broke into a jeer. “Do you even hear yourself? My goddamn high school play festival had better acting than your sorry ass! I’ve had it up to here with all this power bullshit!” He yelled at her, rolling out of the way of stomps and kicks when he stumbled and tripped. The cracks and dents she left in the walls kept him on his toes. “What the hell kind of parenting raised you to get this fucked up?” 

        “You will not speak of my father.” A moment of silence swept over the area. Before he knew it, Biff was launched through the hall, bombarded with punches and kicks against his portly belly. As he hurdled and tumbled through the hall, she continued to charge at him like a wild panther subduing a capybara in the wild. As she punched, kicked, clawed, and ripped him up, he could hear her growling, “You have no right. You have no idea,” but it was hard to focus on as his own counters began to weaken, and he became ever more bruised and battered. 

        “Between you and the Democrats back home,” Biff spat out some blood as he gained his footing, “I sure know a lot of people who tell me I don’t have the right. Whether it’s parking in a handicapped spot at the Cracker Barrel, or that I can’t insult people whose fathers tell them it’s okay to shoot people out of the sky and rip their limbs off, which is what I gather you’re trying to do to me.”

        “I would relish the thought!” She charged at him again, but he had recovered. His buzz was still strong and numbed much of the pain. He shoved her out of the way with his own weight and knocked her back. 

        “Back home, this kind of bullying doesn’t get you anywhere. I know you think I’m just a sad, loud lardass, and I am, and that everyone else here is a piece of garbage, but if you spent a day in my world, people as pretty as you gotta’ be real messed up to act like such a piece of shit to everyone. I don’t know how this King Zahard picks his princesses, but he really must have hit the bottom of the barrel to drag up someone like you.” Her breathing grew heavy as she fought back against his own onslaught of slaps and punches. She deflected and parried him with impressive focus, yet did not anticipate an impressively hard headbutt that knocked her off balance, allowing Biff to slam her into the wall with a thud. “Maybe people would start treating you like a princess if you showed some goddamn class!” He screamed, covering her face in beer breath. It was repulsive enough to break her concentration, overpowering her fury. She missed yet another retaliation, allowing Biff to land another full blow on her core. The wall cracked. Her hair became wet with blood as the back of her head hit the wall. She staggered in shock, unable to speak due to humiliation and pain. Biff heaved and panted, almost completely worn out, lingering for a moment to ensure he hadn’t killed her. 

        “That’s enough,” A cold focus came over her as she kicked him into the opposite wall with a cold, metal boot. Biff was taken by surprise, wheezing as the impact hit and sent a small shockwave throughout the room. “Every word you speak disgusts me. Freedom is an illusion that has no place in this tower. Rights are given from the strong to the weak to be taken away freely when it is not to their benefit. Every piece of power I got I clawed and climbed for, and I will not be insulted by a fat pig blinded by his own delusions.” She walked towards him with authority and smacked him while he was still dazed. He grunted. “This tower is crueler than you could ever imagine. Consider this an act of mercy towards the only man so reckless and stupid enough to speak freely to me.” She grabbed him by the throat.

        Biff felt enormous pressure as he squirmed and coughed out his last remaining breaths. The blood vessels in his eyes seemed to pop out as he glared at her in an ever greater struggle. But his hands squeezed only her armor. As heavy as he was, she was simply too strong to break free from in this state. But before his vision could fade and his struggles could cease, a flash of light from the hall pierced through the Princess’ bangs, toppling her and causing her to release Biff with a cry.

        “Biff! Hurry!” Slav called to him from the dark, his arm still outstretched through his robe. He was sweating and panting nearly as hard as Biff was. He had clearly sprinted. 

        “Now  _ that’s _ how an alliance is supposed to work, partner!” Biff quickly caught his breath and wheezed, jogging towards him. “So you decided to come, huh? You see that, Princess? That’s Democracy!” He looked back at her, meeting her glare - two rubies shining through bloody hair. He then swiftly departed with his friend, manifesting one last beer for the trip back to base. “Gonna’ need this last one. Want one, bud?” He offered his hand to Slav.

        “Ugh. Might as well. Thank goodness you still have the strength left. I came after you, but all I had to go off of where the sounds of explosions. I was lucky to run into James on the way; he told me where to find you.” Slav put his hand out and was offered a bud light in return. He welcomed its frigid touch and began to chug as he ran. 

        “So he’s alright, then! He must have lost that other bastard!” Biff cheered. 

        “Well, I can only hope. In any case, let’s hope he can score before he finds him again.” Slav panted. “Frankly, I’m just glad you didn’t get yourself killed by the Princess. It’s incredible you can almost fight evenly with her.” A light boom was heard far behind them.

        “Hey, she caught me by surprise! Shoulda seen me on her before! Not that I, uh… like to hit girls and stuff.” Slav groaned and ran ahead. “Hey, wait!” Biff shouted and reached out, gulping down his beer. Another thud was heard in the distance, followed by a rush of wind. Biff slowed down and looked behind him. “Slav, do you hear something back-” he was cut short by a baang whizzing inches from his face. He immediately turned around and sprinted, catching up to Slav in an instant.

        “Scared she’s come to her senses already? Even if she’s a princess, I think I’ve been training pretty hard!” Slav laughed smugly as he started to lag behind. He was caught by surprise as Biff scooped him up with one arm, soaking his robe in blood and sweat. “Hey, what in the world are you doing? Put me d-” As Biff carried him over his shoulder like a small child, Slav watched in horror behind them as a black and red figure sped ever closer to them, practically leaving a trail of dust in her wake. 

       “Is she behind us?” Biff asked, almost hysterical. 

        “Yes! Run! Faster!” Slav shouted as he saw her create another bang to shoot at them. “Biff, hold me steady!” He positioned himself for stability on his shoulder as they ran down the hall in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Through beads of sweat stinging his eyes, he concentrated on the Princess and prepared his own baang. It seemed nearly as potent, and it would have to do. He fired. 

        “Did you hit her?” Biff asked. His steps, quick and heavy, became muted by sounds of colliding bangs and the terrible tailwind of the stampeding Princess. Like a force of nature, she seemed massive to Slav who could do nothing but continue to stare as she gained on them. 

        “I’m trying! Just keep running and hope we can win before we die!” They ran for what seemed like hours. Slav had never faced so fierce an opponent. Even his bullies back home were completely harmless compared to this tyrannosaurus. In her injured state, it was astounding how well she could still form a baang. And she wasn’t even a wave controller!  _ Princesses of Zahard are truly a breed apart _ , he thought as he barely managed to continue blocking her baangs. 

        As they pressed further down the path and the arena began to brighten a bit, they passed once again the body of Bertuccio. There was no time to check for breath, but the blood had dried. As they passed, Slav noticed a red badge beside his body. “Biff, something’s strange. One of their badges is lying next to Bertuccio.” A baang grazed Biff on his other arm as they ran.

        “Slav,” Biff heaved, “We have a saying back home. Shoot first, ask questions later. The worst they can do is start kneeling at football games.” 

        “You come from a very interesting home, Biff Biggums.” Slav said as he picked up his focus yet again. 

        “Damn right,” he replied. He was beginning to worry he wouldn’t hold out. He had finished the beer long ago, and Slav was beginning to weigh a little on him. It was a miracle the Princess hadn’t caught up already. “Slav, come on. Can’t you hit her at all?” 

        “I’m trying my best!” He said as he prepared another Baang. “She’s just too focused, I need to block her own baangs as well!” Then, it hit him. “Biff, she focuses her shots to the left. On my mark, dodge to the right.” He grunted in compliance as their foe pressed forward, nearing their fallen comrade. A baang sat restlessly in her palm, about to be unleashed.

        “Jump!” Biff awkwardly skipped to the side as he continued his sprint. His body was soaked in sweat, much to Slav’s chagrin. He’d have to boil his robe after this test. He let go of his resentment and formed another baang, waiting for the right moment. She was so close, and right where he wanted her. He propelled it at her, catching her unprepared. She hastily dodged as any Princess would have, but as she recovered, her boot caught the limp leg of Bertuccio, sending her tumbling. 

        “Yes!” Slav cheered, elated. “We’ve done it, Biff! Victory is as good as ours now!”

        “Whew!” He sighed, lightening his pace by a slight margin. “See what I tell you? Just keep shooting, bud! Now let’s go meet James!” He pat Slav on the back quickly with his other, bloody arm as the latter shut his eyes for a moment, exhausted. 

        They seemed so close. After more jogging, the end was almost in sight. Although the hallways all seemed to blend together, Biff perceived an opening up ahead. As he approached the intersection, he heard the light flaps, grunts and cries that could only belong to two other regulars. 

        “James!” Biff cried out.

        “Biff!” James turned the corner in flight and looked at him with joy, but his grin was wiped clean by a walloping punch from Temlin. 

        “James! Slav, come on!” He yelled again, repositioning Slav and knocking him back into focus. “Shoot him!” Slav took aim and hit Temlin in the shoulder. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground. 

        “Damn it!” He winced as Biff ran past towards the eagle. 

        “Come on, James! You’ve gotta’ get up! Get that flag over, right?” He put Slav down. Now that their base was in sight, they could run on their own again. James slowly came to his feet.

        “Biff, you made it. Incredible.” They dusted off while Slav kept Temlin from getting up himself. 

        “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go! We’ve got a game to win!” Biff pushed him onward as the bird began to run towards base again. Biff sighed in relief, but immediately tensed up again as a cold shadow towered over him.

        “You’re still too slow,” it whispered as Biff was sent flying all the way back into home base, rolling into the blue light cast from Toulalan’s lighthouse. 

        “Biff? What the heck happened to you?” He looked onward as James and Slav ran in, frenzied and terrified of their assailants right behind. 

        “Toulalan! Guard us! Use the lighthouse!” Slav shouted at him, “Biff, get up! James, fly!” He screamed even louder as he tried to gain distance to fire his baangs once again. James Washington caught sight of his own team’s flag and took flight. All he had to do was make contact between the two, and the game would be won. There was no stopping him. 

       “Princess, shoot him! Temlin huffed, completely out of breath. She formed a baang and fired, but was soon guarded by Biff. Slav, seeing they had stopped, quickly gave an encore with a shot of his own and hit her in the leg, but it did nothing more than scratch her armor. Temlin looked around the base frantically for anything that could salvage this game. Much more was at stake than the test if he failed here. Aliana would kill him for sure. . 

       Temlin blitzed past Slav in the shadows, but James was too close in flight. He rushed towards Toulalan. “Hey, what are you-” Toulalan tried to block him with the lighthouse, but Temlin was too slippery. He knocked him away unceremoniously, ripping the blue badge off of his shirt. 

       “Sorry, Princess! Looks like Democracy wins again! You can tell your old King to have a little more faith in America!” He pushed back against her in a relentless deadlock, grinning with pride that his revenge would soon be complete. He had won. She was confused. She had no idea what America was. All she knew was that Temlin Vasquez, slipping by in her periphery, was a dead man after this was finished.

       “You’re an awful comedian,” was all she could manage to retaliate with. 

       “Oh yeah?” He chuckled and glanced back at Slav, who nodded. “Well, here’s a good one. You know who my favorite Princess is back home?” She glared at him. She wanted to rip that dirty, sweat-dripping mustache off of his face and stuff it into his mouth before ripping his tongue out of that, too. 

       “SLEEPING BEAUTY!” He yelled in her face and then immediately ducked. Slav took the cue perfectly, firing a final baang directly into her face. She cried out and stepped backward, allowing Biff to blast her chin with a deadly uppercut. She fell back on the ground as all energy slipped through the cracks in her armor. In his victory, he could do nothing but roar. Temlin came up behind him furiously and prepared to strike with the needle as a last resort of revenge, but Slav knocked it out of his hand with a physical strike. 

       “I don’t fucking believe this!” He declared, reaching for the second badge he picked up on the way back. As Slav and Biff looked back towards James’ progress, Temlin quickly placed a blue badge on his Princess and removed her own. She almost looked peaceful. “I still win, James!” His raspy voice cried out with spite as he slapped Toulalan’s badge on himself. 

       “Sorry, Vasquez!” He responded without looking, his beak curved into a smug smile. “Perhaps we’ll meet again on the other side! Good luck with your other tests!” He landed, triumphantly lifting the flag from under his wing. Its red clashed with blue, and a marvelous light enveloped the entire arena. The blue badges glowed vibrantly, and the entire darkened atmosphere faded away into nothingness. Biff, Slav, and Toulalan were awestruck, staring at the lights. James looked intently at the flag and could do nothing but laugh. Temlin sighed and smiled, giving no more than an agonized chuckle as he lay down next to Aliana, sleeping peacefully. A blue light enveloped five of them. 

       “Hey,” Toulalan noticed, “What’s happening to you guys?” 

       “You’re right, James. We will meet again on the other side!” He smiled as he flashed his badge. They begun to ascend. James broke out of his stupor and looked at his rivals floating with him.

        “How is this possible? When did you switch?” James glared indignantly at him. 

        “Never underestimate me, you fucking eagle.” Temlin laughed, coughing up drops of blood. Only now could James see how badly his foe was hurt. He had performed better than he thought, though now his own wounds were also beginning to ache and burn.

        “Is this… the rapture?” Biff paid no attention to the trouble around him, still focused on his own ascension.

        “Hey, guys?” Toulalan called from below. It was useless. He was already forgotten. Just like Bertuccio. 

        “So am I… are we...” Biff hesitated, still looking at himself glowing as he rose higher into the air. He could swear he saw himself fading away.

        “We’re going up.” Slav answered determinantly. 

        “So then… what happens next?” Biff asked. As his muscles finally relaxed and his wounds too began to ache, his stomach blubber seemed to wave in the air. 

        “We climb the tower.” Temlin closed his eyes as they faded away into light. The arena darkened once again into a desolate black, lit by nothing but Toulalan’s lighthouse. 

        “I thought… I won too… right?” A single tear trailed from his small, beady eye. 

 

        Far away, watching it all with googly eyes and open jaws, sat the rankers. They were baffled. Only Evankhell could speak, turning towards Lero-Ro.

        “Heh. And you voted for another crown game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a wild ride. This baby takes up 70 pages on my google drive. If you've been reading these last few months, thank you so much. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. This marks the end of the arc, but don't worry, there's more to come! Biff Biggums' journey up the tower is only just beginning. 
> 
> Coming up, more characters! More action! More freedom! MORE BIFF!


	17. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff and the others deal with the aftermath of their test.

        Evankhell, standing in the observation chamber, towered behind all five: Hax’s opaque mask hid all expression. Lero-Ro folded his arms, breaking a sweat. Quant kept staring at the screen with wide eyes as Yu Bok-dol wept for the failure of his spear bearers. Yu Hansung merely sipped his instant coffee. 

        “What’s going on? Evankhell?” Lero-Ro looked back at his boss, who grinned cheekily. 

        “I was hoping to just send away the Princess, but we got rid of that fat guy, too. This test went pretty well.” A blank monitor, showing the results of which team won, flickered and lit up her face. 

        “Pretty well?” Quant interjected, “What are you talking about? We don’t even know who won!” He gestured at the monitor, ‘B L U E   V I C T O R Y’ flashing in their faces over and over again. It threatened his sanity.

        “What are you on about?” Evankhell was unmoved. “It’s the people we just saw move up.”

        “But they were on different teams! How is that possible? Shouldn’t that be against the rules? Ro, punish the regulars before they escape!”

        Lero-Ro swept his hair back, irritated. “They’re already gone, Quant.”

        “Did you tell them anything like that, Lero-Ro?” Hansung chimed in from the other side, still calm as a jasmine leaf floating in tea. 

        “No. There was, unfortunately, nothing in the rules preventing them from stealing badges and technically changing teams.” 

        “Those damn snakes! They completely screwed over my Spear Bearers!” Yu Bok-Dol pounded the console below the monitor, his cloak ruffling up. 

        “Shut the fuck up about your damn Spear Bearers already. They were trash and you know it.” Hax slapped him upside the head from behind. 

        He sighed and pulled out a flask. “Yeah. I know.”

        “I suppose we contact the ruler of the Third Floor and let him know there’s been an error with the test.” Lero-Ro sighed, “Our reputations will be ruined.” 

        “No. Let them through.” Evankhell commanded. 

        “What? Isn’t it clear that at least some of the regulars cheated? Ro shouldn’t have had to say anything about not switching teams! We set them at the start!” Quant yelled and stood up, dwarfed by his superior. 

        Evankhell slapped his cheek with a  _ wham _ , sending Quant straight into the monitor. “Unless you want the headache that comes with impeding a Princess of Zahard, then shut up. I don’t really care whether any of them make it or not. Besides, they gave us quite an interesting opening. I think they deserve a reward for that, at least.”

        “So then, what should we tell the others? Especially the one who’s still standing down there?” Yu-Bokdol mused.

        “What else?” Evankhell smiled. “He failed.” 

        Down in the arena, as the last of the light faded away, Toulalan finally began to piece together what had happened. “Well, this is certainly disappointing,” He tried to force a smile, but it came out as a twisted grimace. “Left behind again, huh? Well…” He looked down at his own plain black loafers, then back up into the void of the ceiling. “Biff Biggums, James Washington, Yu Goslav… This isn’t the last you’ve seen of Toulalan.” His fist clenched and trembled with a silent fury, releasing instantly as Lero-Ro descended from the heavens to greet him. 

 

        Golden leaves twinkled on their glassy branches as the breeze blew back Biff’s hair. Still shirtless, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he could to cover up some more: his sunglasses. At least they shielded him from the leaves’ constant glimmer. Above him, the sky seemed to envelop the entire forest in orange and purple twilight. It was a completely different world.

        “Where the hell are we?” Biff asked, turning towards a gawking Slav.

        “The third floor,” a deeper voice grunted from behind him, causing Biff to turn around and put up his fists. 

        “Vasquez, you bastard!” He tightened his jaw and prepared to strike. 

        “Biff, wait!” Slav tried to stop him. He punched, but Temlin quickly darted out of the way, huffing as he regained his footing. 

        “Enough,” Temlin said. “The test is done. We don’t need to do this anymore. James!” He called out to James, lying on the ground, barely tilting his head to manage a glare, “Let’s call this even.” He wiped some drying blood off of his forehead, smearing it invisibly on his black shirt. 

        James slowly got up and spat out whatever mix of fluids was inside him, “What will you do about  _ her _ ?” He motioned towards the Princess, lying unconscious in the green grass. It astounded James to see her without her bloodlust.

        “I’ll get her to forgive me somehow. Besides, this is for the best. I wanted at least the two of you to pass regardless.” Slav, annoyed, barely manage to stay silent at this slight, “Biff is a valuable asset. Even if he’s not worth climbing with.”

        “Hey, what’s that supposed to-” Biff started shouting, but James stopped him. 

        “And you’re an asset to us, is that it?” James stepped forward, his beak shimmering in the light with the leaves.

        “Correct,” Temlin responded coolly. “So how about it? You do some dirty work for us when we need it, I give you valuable information, and everyone climbs a little bit faster.” Temlin stepped towards the trio.

        “Yeah, like hell I’d shake that dirty hand of yours!” Biff spat at him. Temlin sighed. 

        “Fine, then. Maybe I’ll go tell the administrators the truth about that Bud Light, then.” Temlin smirked. 

        “So what?” Biff boasted, “Go ahead and tell ‘em how good it is!” He was interrupted again by James, his beak stretched into something dour.

        “Biff,” he extended his wing towards Temlin, “This is how things have to be. Or we all die.” He grabbed Temlin’s hand, dark and rough. “It’s a deal. No more treachery.” 

        “I’ll hold you to that,” Temlin said as he shook. “You three had better get out of here before the reaper comes back from hell,” He chuckled, looking down at his Princess, “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t kill you.”

        “Why do we have to work with this snake?!” Biff came in between them.

        “Because you’re an irregular!” James said quietly but with force. Slav opened his eyes wide and stepped back. He had his suspicions, but to know for sure… he stood in silence as James continued, “Irregulars, like King Zahard, and Urek Mazino. They’re feared for bringing chaos and destruction to everything they touch here. If anyone found out, they wouldn’t just kill you. They’d slaughter us and wipe out any trace of your existence. Everyone we know would be killed. It’s a miracle even Urek Mazino is known here, and that’s only because he’s unimaginably strong. We need him to keep this secret.” Biff froze up in disbelief. How insane could this tower be? He looked to Slav for some approval or encouragement, but only got a nod in agreement with James.

        “God damn it,” Biff clenched his fists and turned around, “Let’s go, James. Slav. Climb this damn tower,” The three wandered off into the forest in search of civilization. As purple turned to black and a fluorescent moon began to shine, Biff’s Big Rig seemed farther away than ever. And Darlene farther still. But he would get back to them. As many floors as it took. As many princesses that needed beating down. And with as many eagles and bastards as he could carry along with him. He began to sprint using what little energy he still had left, James and Slav following close behind him into the night. 

 

        In the darkest corner of the tower, in that deepest level only the truly chosen go, Headon sat and twirled his scepter, Workshop Shinsoopods in his ears. His mouth seemed to move along and rattle to the words of Yura Ha’s new single,  _ Highway to the Hell Train _ . Darkness surrounded him, and a deep echo boomed throughout the chamber.

        “The Twenty-Fifth Biff is still climbing.”

        “I know, I know,” Headon sighed with his raspy vocalization. “Why can’t we just let him climb? He’ll either die, or make it up high enough to solve our problems!” 

        “I did not choose him, Headon.”

        “Well, you don’t do much choosing these days regardless. I’m the one that picks everyone,” the otherworldly rabbit retorted.

        “Are you talking back to me?”

        “No…” he grumbled. 

        “That’s what I thought,” The chamber shook, and the Shinsoopods fell out of his ears. “Headon, we must fulfill the prophecy. My gates will soon open once again, and if the wrong person ascends…” 

        “But I  _ hate _ the prophecy!” Headon stomped. 

        “Then take it up with Enryu. You will do something about this, Headon. Or I will find a more willing Guardian.” 

        “...Fine,” Headon stood, waving his scepter in the air. “One way or another, the Twenty-Fifth Biff will be dealt with,” with a flash, the rabbit disappeared. Then, to no one in particular, the room began echoing:

        “I’m on the hiiiiiighwayyyy to the Hell Train~!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up on Tower of Biff! Old friends, new foes, and gorgeous idols come together for a night at the opera!


	18. Part 17: Biff and The Sweetest Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff looks for work.

        The thirteenth floor has long been known as a place of spectacle. Once a barren wasteland of dead wood and darkness, two ancient descendents of Tu Perie Tperie put their efforts in transforming the land into a place of beauty and entertainment. Though a true climber would pay it no mind and simply make way to the testing center, the tens of thousands who failed or quit would find a bustling city of theaters, opera houses, and studios. Headed by master entertainer Tu Perie Sundance, the floor had become a cultural capital for F-rank regulars. And right beside the testing center was the floor’s largest concert hall, the Zygena Arena. 

        Nearly the size of a fully grown Zygena Whale, it had taken an entire century to build through the efforts of captured no-named regulars from the 39th floor, auctioned off to powerful Tu Perie rankers for the project. Now, it glistened under artificial starlight, its spotlights beaming up into the stratosphere. Its large glass panels reflected all light from the outside, only shining through its ornate balconies. Atop its largest blue and silver arch rested the Tu Perie insignia. 

        On this clear and starry Zahardsday night, thousands of lighthouses buzzed around the arena, flashing brightly as they snapped pictures and took in the scene. The red carpet finally rolled out, its golden fringes shining like gemstones. The crowd roared. Children ran to the velvet ropes and cried out in excitement. Reporters held out their microphones in advance as they shoved each other for a better spot. Finally, the lights dimmed and centered on a beautiful, radiant regular, her bright blue dress and hair shimmering like the stars above. 

        “Yura Ha! Yura Ha!” The children squealed as they ran up to her with caps and books to sign, dressed in their Yura Ha shirts. She motioned silently for the large bodyguards to leave her, showing only a thin smile beneath her sunglasses as she took out a pen. She signed their trinkets with an unexpected warmth, handing the autographs back gently, dotted with hearts and stars. The reporters hurled their questions at her, but she paid them no mind. She simply strode forward, glowing for her fans. They cheered her on endlessly. 

        “Oh Yura, you were wonderful tonight!” A woman shouted gleefully as she passed, holding a small child wrapped in a blanket in her arms. Even the baby was smiling despite all the noise, looking up into her lenses and seeing herself, reaching out. The idol took her gently, her smile betraying nothing.

        “You have a beautiful baby,” She said kindly over the other cheers, “I hope she has a wonderful life.” The mother, slightly shorter than her, looked up with hopeful tears as she held her child once again. Yura continued to move towards her floating ship.

        “Yura Ha!” Yura Ha!” A large, pale man ran forward as she approached the end of the line, wearing a starry blue shirt, loose cargo shorts, and a Yura Ha baseball cap, “I love you, Yura Ha! Can I get some of your hair?!” He shouted frantically as he pushed through to her, nearly running a finger through her sparkly locks. She stepped away with speed and grace, leaving her bodyguards in front. He was never seen again.

        Finally, she made it into the ship. Sitting down calmly and comfortably, she let out a long sigh in a luxurious seat. She wiped her hands with sanitizer of the pen marks and germs that came from all of the disgusting, smelly children and their equally offending elders. Those who fawned over her voice and her beauty. But that fawning kept her alive, and there was nothing she could do about that for the time being. It kept her busy, influential, and untouchable in the eyes of her vicious aunts and uncles. And if she could just finish her next album and keep climbing, she would hopefully never have to deal with those barbarians ever again. 

 

        Back in the arena, after the stadium darkened and the stage had been struck, a lone box remained vibrant, lit only by the dynamic, poppy riffs and melodious voice of Yura Ha. Such glorious music could be found nowhere else in the tower, and filled the darkest room with radiant light. It intoxicated the mind and made shinsoo itself dance wherever it could reach. The wine glasses atop the bar sang backup as the tables spun across the floor, synchronized at every beat. And in this beautiful, dynamic concert, long locks of olive-green hair spun and flowed with the melody. As their owner danced with the tables and sang along with joy, he slowly wandered towards the stereo as the song reached its conclusion, discontinuing the tune. 

        “Ah,” he sighed pleasurably, “A tour de force of the musical language! To think that talent like this existed, and we’re right in the middle of its crescendo! Doesn’t it just fill you with vigor?” He exclaimed, turning towards the back wall with a grin on his face. Facing him was a large, suited man, hazy and traumatized, dressed similarly to the bodyguards. As he hung, bound by his limbs through ethereal chains in the shape of the lines on a staff, one would not believe he was, in fact, filled with vigor. 

        Quickly, the graceful dancer pulled a chair from its table and slid it over in front of his captive, where he perched and flapped his coattails, examining him in search of some hidden charm or abnormality. 

        “Now, my friend, you simply must tell me,” His eyes widened as as he clasped the bodyguard’s cheeks, feeling their sharp stubble, “Who  _ is  _ Yura Ha? How incredible must it be to work so closely with her?!” He could hardly keep himself from squealing. He could hear her radiance even in her bodyguard, now grunting in a mix of confusion and pain. There was no attempt at a response. 

        “No need, my friend,” he caressed his cheek and looked at him longingly, “I can hear her melody. How sweet it is, and how incredible that it can brighten one as somber as your own.” He pressed his ear to the man’s heart and listened to it beat. It pulsed slowly, quietly, with no crescendo on the horizon. “Such a stoic rhythm. Melancholy, perhaps even monotone to the untrained ear. Yet her melody provides the perfect counterbalance. You must be so grateful, to be given such a beautiful song.” This line provoked a cough and wince from the bodyguard.

        “You’re delusional. That woman is a piece of work.” He managed to spit out before a groan overtook him as the staves that bound him tightened and stretched.

        “You should leave your lyricism to your boss,” the man chuckled as he ran his hand through his hair. A dark gleam suddenly entered his eye, “Yet rejoice, my muse, for your tune has still moved me. Even now, in its coarse, unrefined state, I long to hear its entirety.”

        “Please, just let me go. I don’t know what you want, but-” His midnight stretch pulled him out of his haze, but his confusion had only deepened.

        “Worry not, my friend. Your piece will be the prelude to Yura’s symphony, and I will be played atop the highest peaks of this tower! It is a freedom I long for!” 

        “Then maybe, uh…” The bodyguard sputtered, “You should free yourself first.” 

        “Would that I could, my somber nocturne. But my own melody is not so beautiful, and I cannot rest until I can give this tower the greatest symphony it has ever known. For decades, I’ve searched, and only now do I find Miss Yura…” he trailed off, staring past his victim before refocusing and waving his arms as if to conduct. The staves constricted once again. “You will be part of that symphony.”

        At once, the shinsoo pierced the bodyguard’s body, contorting it as if to become his vessels and his skeleton, moving and shaping it in ways unimaginable. He was carried around the room with a horrific grace, his screams joining the staves to produce an ethereal accompaniment to the crime. Its chaotic composer stood and looked in awe, guiding the music across the room as his arms waved in time, quickly followed by his coattails. He could see nothing, hear nothing but the notes on the staff as it merged into one and an entire life unraveled into song. It was indeed a sad and stoic tune, yet lightened by a contrasting melody sprinkled in. And in those small measures, the composer found the perfect leitmotif. The tables, chairs, and wine glasses once again began to waltz, and in that dark and lonely room, the concert truly began. To think that this would only be a footnote in his career if he could just meet Yura Ha…

 

        Biff, James, and Slav sat on the curb outside of the testing center. Biff kicked a can of Quanta as James sulked and Slav ruminated. The sun beat down on them with an oppressive heat, causing Biff’s shirt to moisten with sweat. He wiped more condensation off of his handlebar mustache.

        “This is bullshit! How the fuck are we supposed to take the test when it’s so expensive?” Biff sighed and sat with the others. They had managed to climb quickly and had seen no trace of any of their companions from the Floor of Tests, but it seemed they had now hit a truly indomitable barrier: the age-old trap of financial distress. 

        “Ugh, let me check our account balances. Pocket, visible mode!” Slav summoned his pocket and groaned as it appeared in front of his face. The numbers it displayed were not promising. “Biff! James! What in the tower have you been spending all these points on?! We’re almost completely broke!” Slav hugged his face, baffled by the balance. He continued to check the account. “A lifetime Tu Perie Premium Network subscription? Biff, we can’t afford this!” Slav snapped at him.

        “Why are you lookin’ at me? He got it so he could catch up on Brothers in Beaks!” Biff retorted, pointing at James.

        “Don’t pin the blame on me, Biggums, you bought that yourself so you could watch Tower of Treats and learn how to cook without poisoning us,” James looked at him snidely.

        “That was three years ago! Can’t we get past it already?” 

        “Enough already!” Slav broke their talk, “We need to find work if we want to keep climbing. Otherwise, we’ll be left in the dust by Temlin and the Princess.” 

        “Who cares?” Biff stood up and stepped back onto the sidewalk, “Let ‘em do what they want, I’m happy they’re gone.” 

        “They can’t help us if we fall too far behind them,” James sighed.

        “We don’t need their help!” Biff yelled at him.

        “Either way, we have to work,” Slav continued. “There must be jobs around here somewhere. This city is the Tu Perie cultural capital, maybe we could get work at a studio. James or I could be cameramen, and you could probably hold microphones since you’re strong.”

        “No way, José,” Biff chuckled, “As long as they still have guitars in this place, we can make a living off my country hits. This face was born for stardom!”

        “Keep dreaming,” Slav looked away as he walked forth, leading them down the block. Even in the daytime, they felt overwhelmed by artificial sunlight glinting off of crystalline walls. Flying cars sped by, covering them in dust as they moseyed down the street looking like paupers. Slav gazed at the glimmering banners and billboards that covered the skyscrapers, then looked down at the ground. He wondered, if he ever became a ranker, whether he could experience this kind of luxury. 

        Biff pouted and took a look around as well. The lights and urbanism reminded him of Los Angeles, the few times he had driven through it. He had never wanted to live in the big city, but he did acknowledge its appeal. To live right in the middle of the action and have something different to do every day. He felt exhausted just thinking about it. Not a day went by when he didn’t think about the forests and lakes at home. Yet millions of people lived here in these cities, both inside and outside the tower. And if Biff learned anything these last two years, there wasn’t a single place here that was too far from any action. If you didn’t find it yourself, it sure would find you. 

        The three stopped in front of the tallest building on the street, a recording studio with a giant turntable on its roof. They gazed up at it, the glass on its walls reflecting their awestruck faces all the while.

        “Well boys,” Biff said, “It’s now or never. My ma always told me my grandad had to sing for his bread and butter. I’ve got the blood of a country singer deep in my veins. If we can get a guitar here, I can get us bags of cash.”

        “What’s country?” James inquired.

        “What’s country?  _ What’s country?! _ ” Biff reacted, “Country is the music of a lifestyle. It’s a feeling you get in your bones when you take a look at the world around you and take it in. Like a bud light, expressed… into song.” He struggled to finish his thought.

        “I hate to break it to you, Biff, but I doubt the Tower wants to hear any of your country. This place manufactures its music after extremely careful crafting. Countless engineers manipulate shinsoo to create the perfect melodies and accompaniments. Just you and a guitar would never suffice.” Slav discouraged him.

        “Well damn,” Biff responded, “Maybe it’s about time this Tower was ready for a change, then.” He walked into the studio. James and Slav groaned, then reluctantly followed him in. The lobby was polished and contemporary, filled with monitors playing all sorts of music videos. Glitzy pop music played over the loudspeakers. Potted plants dotted the hardwood floors. Biff strolled over to the receptionist in the center. 

        “Hey there, miss,” he leaned over her flirtaciously, “Can you tell me where I can find a guitar? These two jokers tell me they don’t want to hear my music, but I think I might surprise them.” He pointed over to the two behind him.

        “Sorry, sir,” the receptionist, a slim woman in glasses and a pink dress, responded, “We don’t sell instruments here. You might be able to find a shop two blocks down that way, though.” She pointed to her right. 

        “Well, how much is it to rent a booth here, then?”

        “Eight thousand points an hour, sir.” She said coolly.

        Biff removed his cap and wiped the sweat off his brow, “Eight thousand, huh… Y’all really drive a hard bargain,” He looked back at Slav and James anxiously. James smirked. “Guess the music business ain’t as easy as it looks.”

        “No, sir,” She said, “A lot of costs go into writing and producing music! It’s a tremendous amount of work, and our producers are some of the most well-trained in the entire tower. But I’m sure that one day, you’ll be able to record in here.” She smiled saccharinely. It was as artificial as the music he heard, and made him squint under his sunglasses. 

        “Thanks anyway, miss.” He walked away, a little down. As he exited the building with James and Slav, another regular accidentally brushed into him. He bumped Biff to the side with his sheer size, and for a brief moment he almost thought Bel Berhino had caught up to them.  _ Impossible _ , he thought.  _ No way that lardass would be able to make it _ . 

        “Hey, you…” He paused and said with a deep voice. His skin was dark, and his head was shaved. He wore a black suit and sunglasses, and postured himself with the utmost composure. “Are you going to apologize?”

        “You bumped into me, bud.” Biff responded with a chip on his shoulder.

        “I do not believe that to have been the case,” the man responded bluntly. 

        “Well I do believe it to be the case,” Biff mocked him, “But I guess I’ll let it slide.” He continued walking, but the man put a large hand on his shoulder. 

        “No. I will be the one letting it slide.”

        “Then get your hand off me, and let it!” Biff took his hand and twisted it before punching the man in the face. He flinched, allowing Biff to create some distance and conjure up a bud light, but he hardly seemed to be in pain. 

        “Biff!” James and Slav looked on in horror. To think he’d throw his life away for country music…

        “Gentlemen!” The receptionist rose up and attempted to stop them, but neither were in the mood to listen. The suited regular charged at Biff, slamming into him with his shoulder and sending him straight into the wall. Biff grunted, and noticed the man had already closed the distance. He dodged right before his opponent could explode his head with a punch, punching him in the gut and then sending a knee into his nose. The man clutched his nostrils to stop the bleeding as he staggered. A second bud light entered Biff’s hand. 

        “You’re a fuckin’ monster, huh?” Biff panted. “Lucky for me, I’ve fought a couple already,” He drank more beer, and felt a surge of strength flow through him. No doubt his foe was reinforcing himself with Shinsoo as well. As they came at each other yet again, James and Slav prepared to intervene in case things began to look dire. The receptionist was on the phone, whispering frantically to security. 

        Walls cracked, paintings shattered, and the floor became covered with shattered ceramics and soil as the potted plants proved the poorest victims in this war. Biff and the man were covered in blood and bruises, struggling to catch their breath between punches. As they continued to destroy the lobby, the double doors in front opened smoothly as a third figure strode in beyond their notice. But Slav and James immediately looked in her direction. 

        “Alonso,” she said softly, “Is the room booked yet?” 

        The large regular immediately turned to her, his sunglasses failing to hide the shock on his face. “I… I’ll do it right away, ma’am.” He got up and walked towards the receptionist.

        “Hey, wait-” Biff tried to call him back, but was interrupted. 

        “And you.” She spoke with authority, “You look poor. But you did a number on my bodyguard, which couldn’t have been easy. I need someone like you.” A glimmer in her eye made him uncomfortable, yet she somehow seemed irresistible.

        “Yeah?” Biff responded as he got up, “And you are?” 

        “That’s…” Slav whispered to nobody in particular.

        “Yura Ha. The person you’re hearing right now.” She smiled at him, immediately becoming radiant and expressive even through her own sunglasses. Her black and blue kimono belied a warmth exuding from her face. Only now did Biff see her sparkle like the stars in the night sky, hearing her voice over the sound system.

        “So this is what you meant, Slav…” he looked at him, somewhat in awe at her presence. It was almost unreal. Biff examined her in apprehension before concluding there was nothing to be afraid of. “Biff Biggums,” he extended his hand towards her.

        “I need a new bodyguard, Mr. Biggums. Would you be willing to help me put on my last concert here?” She asked him respectfully, though refusing to touch his hand. He looked in confusion at James and Slav, who nodded aggressively.

        “Well, a man’s gotta eat, huh. At your service, miss.” He kept his hand extended, wondering when she would finally shake it. 

        “Consider yourself hired,” she smiled and took off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of kind and sparkly blue eyes, “Now follow me. We have an album to record!” 

        As Yura and Biff stepped into a nearby elevator, James and Slav looked on in awe. Did Biff just sign on to work with one of the biggest stars in the tower? As they sat in that crumbling lobby, the receptionist, who had disappeared after hanging up the phone, suddenly returned with a mop and a dustpan. 

        “Excuse me,” She glared at them, “Are you two going to help me clean up this mess?!” 

        “Yes, ma’am.” They both groaned reluctantly and got off their asses. 


	19. Part 18: Biff and the Shinsoo Symphony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff gets to know the music business.

        Biff Biggums had been standing outside the recording studio door for an hour, leaning back onto the wall alongside Alonso. The two would not speak to each other, choosing to remain in awkward silence as their bruises slowly began to fester. Though there was adequate room, the long, windowless hallway before him caused Biff unease. The potted plants along the walls did little to freshen the atmosphere. The pervading smell was still body odor, though Alonso was now a prime offender as well. 

        Through the tinted glass behind them, the sweet voice of Yura Ha crept out as she practiced for her upcoming session. Biff noticed Alonso swaying peacefully to her melody, however faintly it passed through the soundproof doors.  _ What a chump _ , Biff thought,  _ doesn’t he know this kind of thing is all fake, anyway? Bet she sounds like crap live _ . Biff was more impressed with the engineers for making her sound so good. Like a big old butter biscuit, her music was good on the side but with no real substance, too sweet to be sustainable. He smiled. 

_         Just like back on Earth _ . 

        There were two rooms behind the door. The booth with Yura herself, and the team of engineers across the glass panel working tirelessly to find the instruments and effects to craft the perfect song. Time was money, and Yura’s team knew they only had so much of both to spend before the business became excessive. The engineers, however, were one man short today, and as recording time drew near, they panicked in the absence of their leader, scrounging up what knowledge they could pool together in a frenzy. 

        On the other side of the glass, Yura looked as calm as ever as she continued to warm up. She paid no attention to the chaos in front of her as she sipped her water. They would have to sort out their own problems and do their jobs. If they couldn’t solve their little dilemma within the hour, there’d be hell to pay. She took a breath and exhaled more words. Words from a paper she had looked over twice before and deemed acceptable. Words that sounded so beautiful to the millions who heard them. Words that meant nothing to her but hollow sounds on a disk. She could vomit. 

        As she began to sing again, she looked up with a dull intrigue at the engineers in the booth. She watched them as they clicked and fumbled with their software, now smiling as they mixed the sounds to fit her voice. It almost amazed her how such a meaningless performance could still sway them. They looked back at her, giving her thumbs ups and grins as if they approved of her. She smiled back, betraying none of the humiliation she felt. How they looked at her like a shining star as she sang the songs she wanted nothing to do with, smiling and singing along so joyfully just like her audiences. Ingrates who cared nothing for the songs she truly wanted to sing. Her voice was wasted on them. She strolled through her lyrics once more, raising her eyebrows momentarily as she heard a thump through the booth and felt a small rumble. Taking another sip of water, she got back to practice. 

        “Whoa whoa whoa, Buster,” Biff folded his arms as he looked down towards his poor victim on the ground, “Nobody gets in to see the star without my say-so.” He grinned through his shades as he extended his hand towards his friend.

        “Biff Biggums, you bastard.” His feathered friend grabbed his hand and rose onto his feet. “Just because you’re the first one to get work, you believe yourself high and mighty,” James grunted and chuckled, “I came to tell you that Slav and I are going to find jobs for ourselves, so meet back up with us near our lodging after you finish.” He suddenly looked at Alonso, remembering the fight those two had before. He nodded anxiously. Alonso nodded back as if nothing had ever happened. 

        “Alright bud, I’ll see y’all later tonight. Good luck finding work, but I think I’ve got us covered. This girl in here’s a big star,” Biff leaned in to whisper the last part in James’ ear… or whatever a talking eagle hears out of. James chuckled, waved, and walked away. He’d make his own living. 

        “Friend of yours?” Alonso inquired, remaining motionless. 

        “Yeah, he’s a teammate, I guess.” Biff smiled.

        “From Evankhell’s Hell?”

        “That’s what they say.”

        “I hear those bird guys don’t usually make it too far. You’d best say your goodbyes while you can.”

        “Ah, don’t worry about him,” Biff smiled, “He’s a tenacious little bastard. Fought off a Princess of Zahard with me way back when.” 

        “So the lobby wasn’t just a fluke.” Alonso tilted his head away and sneered.

        “Sorry bud. I like to think we’re a little bit above average.” 

        “Don’t get so cocky. It’s easy enough to defeat anyone on the second floor. Not even a princess is infallible when they haven’t even learned the basics.”

        “Hey, you worry about your own boys, alright? Me and mine’ll be just fine,” He chuckled at his own “clever” rhyme.

        “Look sharp, gentlemen!” A third voice cheered from down the hall, carried by the sound of boots stomping on the hardwood floor. Biff and Alonso immediately listened, examining the man walking their way. Tall and skinny, his lime locks flowed behind him as he stepped towards them with a sly grin. Biff immediately moved in front of the door. 

        “Who’re you?” He folded his arms again.

        “Such a diligent servant. You have nothing to fear, step aside.” He responded coolly, flashing a badge hidden under his brown tailcoat. 

        “Biff, enough.” Alonso grabbed him and took him aside, “Sir,” he motioned to the man, who tipped his hat in response as he opened the door.

        “Thank you, good sir! Such dutiful bodyguards. Your protectee is lucky to have you! And you…” his bubbly smile left his face as he looked into Biff’s eyes, “Have a very interesting melody.” 

        As the door shut behind them, Biff shuddered. “So he’s the sound guy, huh? Gives me the creeps.” Alonso did not respond. Biff sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon for the both of them. 

        Behind them in the booth, the other engineers quickly fell in line as their boss came to the front and spoke through the glass to his client. He pressed a button to activate the loudspeaker. 

        “Miss Yura Ha! Humblest apologies for my tardiness! Are you ready to begin?” He could hardly contain his excitement as he bowed fervently. Hearing her voice so close was one of the greatest pleasures one might hope for in this life. He could already hear a faint twinkle within her.

        “Yes, of course.” She sighed after taking another sip of water, putting on a pair of headphones located on the stool next to her. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

        The eyes of the man lit up as he removed a pair of white gloves from his hands. The lights in the recording booth dimmed as excess noise was eliminated. A light breath passed through pink lips, followed by a moment of nothingness. Then, a piano. A bright chord struck with force, and Yura instantly relaxed as the breath inside her turned to song, flowing forth and filling the room with a bright atmosphere. Even the dimly lit room took on the faint twinkly hue of the stars surrounding Yura. The engineers became so entranced that they could hardly turn their knobs and push their buttons. But their efforts were in vain. Unbeknownst to them, their leader had obtained complete control. With a wave of his hands, the machines began to crank and turn on their own, producing an accompaniment that none of them were prepared to hear. The engineers began to whisper to each other:

        “Hey, what’s he doing? This wasn’t the rhythm we were prepared for.”

        “I don’t know. I don’t even recognize this guy. Is he a replacement for the chief today?”

        “He must be, but didn’t he get the right materials? Is he just improvising all this? The guards wouldn’t have let an amateur in here.”

        “Yura Ha must have called him in specifically. Just listen to this stuff! He’s gotta’ be pretty renowned somewhere in the tower. Guess we can just sit back and let him do the work for now.”

        “Fuck yeah man, I love getting paid to do nothing.” The two engineers bumped fists and reclined in their seats. 

        As the sound crept through the door, Biff and Alonso noticed the change in rhythm. 

        “What the heck’s this?” Biff smiled. He’d never heard music quite like this. It was unnatural, definitely produced by boys in a lab… but not unoriginal. It was still a far cry from the classic rock and country he was used to listening to back home, but he somehow found himself nodding along to the rhythm. 

        “You’ll get sick of it eventually.” Alonso responded quietly.

        “What do you mean?” Biff said.

        “The music,” he replied, “Once she starts touring, you’ll cherish those moments of silence between shows.” 

        Biff chuckled, “Not a fan of your own boss’ work, huh?” Alonso, however, remained straight-faced.

        “Do you think she is?”

        “I doubt I’ll stick around long enough to find out,” Biff said. “Once I get enough money, I’m takin’ the test and moving on anyway.” 

        Alonso scrunched his nose, betraying a sense of disgust, “Just another regular then, huh.” He reserved harsher verbal judgment. No need for another fight here. He watched through the side of his eyes as Biff continued to nod along. 

 

        After what seemed like an eternity of bright and poppy noise seeping out into that narrow, windowless corridor, voices finally got closer and closer behind the two bodyguards until Yura and the engineer carefully opened the door. Biff and Alonso immediately followed them, listening to the two exchange platitudes and ideas. To think that an entire album was recorded so quickly. Did they even need multiple takes? Biff was befuddled as he eavesdropped.

        “You know, miss Yura, I haven’t heard a voice that beautiful in all of my days! You have fantastic control!” The engineer said, holding his hat to his heart. 

        “Thank you, mister…” She paused.

        “Amadeus. Eurasia Amadeus.” He smiled as they continued to walk, “Your melody is so radiant, it glimmers like the stars in the sky. Truly I haven’t had so much fun composing an accompaniment in years. I suppose what I mean to say is that it’s an honor.” 

        “Mister Amadeus, are you hitting on me?” Yura’s lips twisted into a smirk. 

        “I simply think that a beautiful song resides inside you. And I wish to show that song to the world.” He bowed his head.

        “So a partnership, then?” She asked nonchalantly.

        “Yes, in a sense,” He replied, “Allow me to treat you to dinner, miss Yura. We have much to discuss, and I can transform you into the greatest star this tower has ever seen.” 

        “You’re making a very bold offer,” She said coldly and hesitated. Biff chuckled under his breath behind them, but Alonso punched him in the gut to quickly quiet him. “I’ll humor you with a dinner. You’re certainly the most competent engineer I’ve worked with.”

        “Music to my ears!” Amadeus exclaimed. “I know the perfect place! I assume your dutiful bodyguards will be coming along as well. Do you all enjoy Shinheuh meat? Oh, I can’t wait!” He quickened his pace as Biff’s mouth began to water. 

 

        Adorned with dim lanterns and covered in sleek black tiling,  _ The Black Eel _ was surely the nicest restaurant Biff could hope to eat in - and surely out of his price range. He wondered what kind of hot doggish monstrosities James and Slav could possibly be suffering from. Unfortunately, he and Alonso were not so fortunate as to get a seat at their table for two. Biff took point near the front entrance, ready to wail on any paparazzi who dared interfere with a star’s hearty meal. But when he could, he tried to listen in on their conversation. 

        “The song inside my soul? You must be joking,” Yura Ha snickered, clearly in disbelief. 

        “Of course it may sound silly, but you must remember my family has a unique way of perceiving shinsoo. But even I am a bit of a black sheep among the Eurasias, I must confess. I meant what I said earlier. Inside of everyone, I hear a song. And yours, Yura Ha, is the most beautiful I have ever heard.” He looked into her blue, starry eyes 

        “That’s quite the compliment,” Yura responded, “But unfortunately I don’t recognize anything like that. And I hardly get the opportunity to write my own songs. You know how picky these producers can be.” 

        “Yes, I only know all too well how annoying these middle men can be,” Biff couldn’t help but meet Amadeus’ eyes, “But perhaps we may cut out these middle men.”

        “You’d produce for me?” Yura Ha inquired, “You know I’m also attempting to climb the tower. I don’t suppose your facilities are portable.” Her benefactor was too bold, as she thought. He had no idea of the song inside her soul, or how to manage her. He was merely a talented eccentric showering her with compliments. She could see right through him. Even if he was rich and from a great family, he’d be far too slow for her. 

        “Goodness, you’re even smarter than I thought!” He said happily, “But worry not, we do not require so much equipment. So long as we can store sufficient recording equipment, I can handle the engineering. My abilities have always been focused towards creative purposes. You see, Shinsoo itself can become my music!”

        “Is that how you were so adaptive?” Yura became intrigued. 

        “Indeed it is,” He responded, “Just watch.” He carefully put his knife and fork down from his plate of smoked eel, his coattails waving in the air-conditioned breeze as he rose from his seat. The patrons watched as out of thin air, lines from a stave began to form and float around the room. Biff briefly wondered if he was in Disney World before deciding he hadn’t seen enough Mickey Mouse ears on the regulars for that to be the case. Even for him, who had seen more sights than he ever imagined in the tower already, the symphony above his head hardly seemed real. If the score had begun playing  _ Sweet Home Alabama _ , he’d have surely become catatonic.

        Even Yura looked up in amazement at what was going on. Though apprehensive, his talent had caught her off guard as she heard a symphony of dreamlike sounds that perfectly reflected the atmosphere. Refined, ambient, yet transformative in nature. It would have been subtle if not for the spectacle. As Amadeus’ short concerto came to a close, the hungry patrons rose in applause. 

        “That really is an incredible power,” Yura said as she calmed down, “But I’m afraid I must decline. I can’t remain so devoted my entire life,” she dug into her eel, finely sauteed, and took a big bite, “Even I can’t be a star forever.”

        Amadeus replied undaunted, “So then what will you do? Make the occasional stop at concert halls along your climb? We can make songs anywhere you want, with the dynamics of our climb! I understand you have your dreams, but your song is simply too magnificent to be wasted. You couldn’t possibly want to keep it bottled up, and no other engineers would be able to unleash your potential!” 

        “Tell me, then,” Yura looked him in the eyes coldly, “What does it sound like, ‘The song of my soul?’” It almost sounded like she was mocking him.

        “It’s…” he hesitated, searching for words as beautiful as the sounds he could hear, “Fulfilling is the best word I can think of in short. It’s confident and bright, and it can shine even surrounded by darkness. It fills the void within silence, the hopeful struggle to find happiness!” A silence filled the air. 

        “A confident, bright, hopeful struggle. What wishful thinking.” She spoke. “There is no song like that within me. I see now that this was a waste of time.” She rose and put on a pair of black, opaque sunglasses. “Thank you for your work today, Eurasia Amadeus. Alonso.” Alonso quickly came to her side as Biff held the door open for them. 

        “Miss Yura, wait!” Amadeus rose and reached out for her.

        “That’s enough. I hate clingy guys.” 

        Amadeus sat back down, slowly, mechanically. His face remained expressionless, but his arms trembled. How utterly dejecting, to have her and her beautiful music so close, and to see her walk away, leaving him with nothing! He couldn’t let her get away like this. The song of her soul would be his greatest symphony, otherwise his dreams would forever go unfulfilled. For his void to remain, and to grow without her light inside it… the thought was too much to bear. He could not keep his feelings bottled. Slowly, his arms rose in the air, attracting the attention of some of the more observant patrons, watching in excitement. He closed his eyes, and channeled his thoughts into the atmosphere. 

        His heartbreak and agitation began to take form as the staves began to swirl around him, encircling him in glowing shinsoo. The patrons ooh’d and aah’d, watching it flow and listening to a tense, simmering orchestration.  _ Such a gifted composer _ , they all thought. It was all they could process as the score grew larger and longer, ripping through the restaurant, its wild melody carrying them off into oblivion. 

 

        Biff, Yura, and Alonso had barely made it out the door prepared to walk into the sunset when the idol looked back, noticing the absolute silence behind her with unease.

        “Alonso, and…” she turned towards Biff.

        “Biff.” 

        “Biff. Stay close for the time being. Fanatics often need to be dealt with.” She said as the three continued to walk towards Yura’s floating lodge. Biff sighed. He didn’t expect a 24-hour gig, though he should have known in hindsight. As they walked under the golden sunset, the star and her little solar system caught sight of a peculiar anthropomorphic eagle and a robed regular running towards the restaurant.

        “Hey, is that…” Slav noticed.

        “Biff! Biff!” James took flight and pulled up right in front of the three. “We’re ready to schedule the test!”

        “We’re rich, Biff!” Slav cheered.

        “Friends of yours?” Yura Ha was unamused.

        “Yeah…” Biff winced, “Uhh, how the heck did you guys make all that money so fast?”

        “We invested in the Point Market!” James exclaimed.

        “The point market?” Biff asked, clueless.

        “It would take too long to explain,” Slav rushed them. “James bet all of our remaining points on a budding business called Lurker Cash, but it’s booming! We’ve made a hundred times our money! We’re going to dine at The Black Eel, come with us!” 

        “Sorry, boys, but…” He hesitated, looking at Yura, who stared back in disapproval, “I’ve got something to take care of right now. I’ll let you know when I get a break, okay?” 

        “Suit yourself,” Slav said as the two continued to hurry towards the restaurant. 

        “Please keep your personal affairs personal,” Yura resumed walking. 

        “Yeah… Sorry…” Biff sighed. He wished his boss wasn’t so serious, looking back at his friends frolicking down the street. But that weirdo from earlier gave him the creeps too.  _ Leaving these two early might be a bad idea,  _ he thought. 

        James and Slav gleefully opened the doors, eager to embellish a bit after escaping the cruel clutches of poverty. They could smell the juicy meat of cooked Shinheuh already. But as they gazed upon the interior, the aromatic excess of that fine establishment was nowhere to be found. Inside of The Black Eel, all they discovered was the aftermath of a bloody symphony.


	20. Part 19: Biff and the Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biff has trouble socializing at work.

        Yura’s floating house was not the extravagant mansion that Biff thought it would be. Instead, it was a relatively small yet cosmopolitan apartment. It reminded him of one of those Yuppie penthouses he would see driving through New York. But there was no art on the walls, no pictures of family. He could scarcely believe anyone lived here at all. But, as was ever common in this tower, looks can be deceiving. She did live alone, after all.

        He wasn’t used to such nice living arrangements. Even with Slav and James’ points combined, their apartments were humble. The wealth bestowed upon the ten families had driven up home prices on virtually every floor they came across, and what could have been a comfortable living felt like mere pennies in the presence of family members. Maybe if he had Ari Hitomi on his team, things could have turned out differently. But even here, for a Ha family member, this wasn’t the kind of wealth he had seen them with before. At least the view was nice.

        “Stop gawking,” Yura scolded him from a sofa in the center of the living room.  _ Typical celebrity _ , he thought. As nice as can be in front of the fans, but alone it’s a different story. “Alonso, hire additional security for Honday’s concert. Take Biff to the Zygena tomorrow so he can learn the layout. This is our last concert here, so there might be an increased risk.” 

        “Understood, ma’am.” He said in monotone. If Biff knew his colleagues would be so humorless, he’d have never taken this job. At least it would probably be over after that concert. 

        “So, do you wanna’ take first watch tonight, or should I?” He asked Alonso. “I’m used to working late, so I can do either.”

        “That won’t be necessary,” he said. 

        “You must be joking,” Yura continued, “We’re floating a thousand meters in the air. Our only danger is a suspendium failure. Get some rest tonight.” It was almost shocking to hear such generosity from his boss. 

        “Well, if you insist, ma’am,” he responded, but he maintained his position. He couldn’t seem to relax around her. She seemed untouchable, somehow. Was it due to her great family status? No, some that he met were arrogant and cold, but there was something else about Yura Ha. He was much more relaxed with Hitomi and even that other Ari from earlier, weird as he seemed. Besides, he was used to dealing with those suits back home. Yet somehow, he sensed that she couldn’t relax around him either.

        “Hey,’ He said, “y’all mind if I cook up something?” 

        “So you’re a cook? That might explain a thing or two.” Yura smirked. Alonso remained silent. Biff walked to the kitchen, hardly separated from the living room besides the tiling, and took out some boards and bowls from the cupboard. He peeked into the refrigerator, eventually picking out some familiar fruits and vegetables, as well as a tasty fish common on the fifth floor. With how bare the rest of the apartment seemed, he was a bit surprised to find a fridge full of food. As the resident chef for a bird, Biff was quite used to whipping up all kinds of seafood. As Alonso sat at a table and began to apply ointment to his bruises and their boss lounged on the couch watching  _ Brothers in Beaks _ , Biff chopped away on his cutting board. 

        “I recruited you because you were strong enough to beat Alonso, but you’re really not as useless as I thought,” Yura said as she nibbled at her sushi rolls. She eyed them carefully, as if she was afraid he’d poisoned them.

        “I guess we all pick up a few things on the climb,” So it really was true… His mother always said the best way to a woman’s heart was through her stomach. He should have heeded her advice sooner. “So where’d you learn to sing like that?”

        “A natural gift,” she replied bluntly, taking a larger bite. Alonso shot him a look, causing him to sink back into his chair. 

        “You know, I used to play a little music myself,” He smiled as he stuffed a roll into his mouth. Yura didn’t seem amused, but Alonso raised an eyebrow. He was powerless to escape Biff’s watchful eye. “Yup. Back when I was on the road at my old job, I used to play it all the time at the rest stops. Got a couple fans that way,” he chuckled.

        “I don’t think I’m familiar with those,” she replied, “but I find it hard to believe someone as crass as you would have very many fans.” Biff nearly choked on his roll. The audacity of this woman to criticize his divine melodies. It took every fiber of his being not to get himself fired for unprofessional conduct. Finally, he cleared his throat and swallowed the roll properly with an audible  _ gulp _ . For a moment, there was silence. Then, finally:

        “You gonna’ eat that?” Biff pointed to the last roll on Alonso’s plate. Alonso motioned to him as he grabbed the roll and chomped away competitively. 

        “So… you like  _ Brothers in Beaks _ ?” He asked awkwardly. There had to be something he could talk about with these people. He desperately hoped good taste in television would be that something. Alonso put his hand on his shoulder.

        “That’s enough. Thanks for the food.” All Biff could do was sigh and sit in silence. 

 

        Later that night, long after Yura had retired to her room and Biff had washed the dishes, Alonso simply stood as he always had, stiff and erect, staring at the night sky. Its artificial starlight lit up the clouds below them. As Biff ran his dishrag over the final plate, he glanced at Alonso and saw him gazing outside. He was used to the sky now. For a long time, no matter how beautiful the sights he saw could seem, he would always reminisce over the pearly sunsets of the good old US of A. He wondered if somewhere, Thomas Jefferson was looking down at him, cheering him on. But now the starlight almost felt real, save the lack of a moon to go along with it. His only real memory of it now was on his favorite shirt: A glorious design of a full moon above three noble wolves, howling with pride. If he had worn it into the tower, maybe that rabbit bastard would have acted differently. 

        His mind wandered over to James and Slav. It had been a long time since they were separated. Things were so much quieter without them, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He could use a little peace and quiet every so often, especially when it felt like he was the one taking care of everything for them. Slav was diligent enough, but a world without his nagging was no worse for wear. But things were off here. He couldn’t relax. Not with that stiff bastard over there staring into space, and especially not with that boss of his.  _ The pay had better make this shit worth it _ , he thought. He wandered over to Alonso. Better than being alone, at least. 

        “So what’ve you got waiting out there?” He asked him bluntly, staring out with him. Far in the distance, he could see the lights of the city glowing faintly beneath the clouds. One of those lights might be where James and Slav were staying. 

        “Nothing. I just enjoy the view.” He said solemnly. 

        “Ah, I get you,” Biff said slyly and grinned, taking a risk, “Everything you need is in here, huh?” Alonso looked away from the sky and at him. For the first time, Biff saw his eyes. They were flat and steady.

        “I don’t know what you’re implying,” He looked away.

        “Come on, bud! The way she acts? No way she can keep anyone around too long. No one’s  _ that _ professional,” Biff snickered.

        “I don’t think you understand that woman.” He said coldly, “It’s not a matter of affection. It’s a matter of respect.” 

        “No, no, I get it,” Biff sighed. “Always on the road, never allowed to settle down when you’re rushing from concert to concert, studio to studio. Tons of people pestering you to stop and sign shit. Even I’d probably become a bitch after all that.” 

        “She doesn’t do this because she wants to. She does it because it’s the only way to keep her alive.” 

        “What the hell are you talking about?” Biff laughed, “She’s living the life! Pretty sure you can stay alive on a hell of a lot less than this.”

        “If she quits her career, her family will kill her. If she makes it as an idol, not even they can touch her. The backlash would be too extreme.” 

        “Her family wants to kill her? Like, the head or something? Where the hell are her parents?”

        “Her parents are dead already. The Ha family killed them already. We’ve been at this for years just making sure she stays on the charts and doesn’t fall into any of their traps. Everyone else died along the way.” 

        “Jesus, that’s rough… I feel kinda bad now.” Biff rubbed his neck. 

        “You try being  _ nice _ when your entire family wants you dead just for existing. Just do your job and things will be fine. She’s not paying you to show her a good time. She needs our protection,” Alonso scolded him.

        “Yeesh, alright. I get it. Why do they want her dead, anyway?”

        “I can’t say that.” Alonso relented.

        “Aw, come on! There’s gotta be something juicy behind this one. It can’t be too easy getting yourself hunted by your own great family. Even if they are assholes.” Alonso unrolled his sleeve. Underneath was a long scar running down his arm. 

        “I got this fighting off the last Ha regular we encountered outside an arena. They’re not enemies you want to have.” He covered his sleeve back up, “She doesn’t know about that one.”

        “Those guys are tough, huh? I’ve never seen a Ha before, myself. Must be like one of those Princesses.” Biff didn’t want to give too much away, but he was tempted to brag about his own feats just a bit.

        “Yeah, a little like that, I guess.” Alonso wondered, “But I don’t think I’ve seen any of those, either… Did you really fight one?”

        “Sure did. Nearly killed me three times. Barely got out of there with the skin of my teeth twice. Only really took her for a dance the last time.”

        “Took her for a dance,” Alonso chuckled. “You know you’d be killed if the wrong person heard you say that?” Biff smiled. He was finally lowering his guard a little.

        “Yeah, heard they’re not supposed to get too involved with anyone. You wanna see a real bitch? Let me show you that Hendo Lok lady. Never seen anyone so crazy in my life. Makes our boss look like peaches and cream.” They heard a door open down the hall and froze. Finally, a door closing. Biff laughed out of relief. “But you do like her though, right?” 

        Alonso grit his teeth, “When you’ve been through this much together, it’s hard not to get attached,” he said, “But I don’t think it’s love.” 

        “Well, suit yourself then. She’s pretty good lookin’ though, right?” He gave Alonso a pat on the back, but Alonso quickly defended his personal space. “Don’t worry, man! I’m married! See?” He pulled a modest wedding ring out of his inventory to show off.”

        “Is she as loud as you?” was all Alonso could respond with.

        “Nah, not quite… But I sure as hell miss her. She must be gettin’ real lonely without me.”

        “You left your own wife to climb the tower?” Alonso looked at him in confusion.

        “I didn’t have much choice. One minute I was drivin’ on the highway and the next I’m here.”

        “I hope you make it back sooner rather than later. Hopefully she’s got a long lifespan.” 

        “Yeah… I hope so too. Longer than me, probably, without all this belly.” He shook his blubber a little in jest. Alonso smirked. 

        “Get some rest, Biff. I can watch tonight. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

        “Thanks, bud. Have a good one.” He took one last look at that moonless sky, so bright yet so empty, and moseyed over to the bathroom and quickly turning the doorknob.

        A loud shriek pierced the the walls and windows and echoed out into the heavens above. Biff was flung back into the wall by the force of a tremendous baang, hitting him square in the head and leaving him with a large gash. The door slammed shut once more.

        “LOCK THE DOOR NEXT TIME, GOD DAMN IT!” He yelled. 

 

        Biff woke up the next day with a purple forehead. After cleaning up and traveling back to the city with his party in a silent floating car ride, he and Alonso toured the Zygena arena. It was Biff’s first time in an indoor concert hall, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the design. It reminded him of the football stadiums he used to watch the boys at Ohio State play at. In the lobby, the two met the other bodyguards Alonso had hired over the Shinsoonet. Mostly unremarkable, yet one or two seemed a little stronger. 

        “Gentlemen, in three days Yura Ha will have her final concert on the thirteenth floor,” Alonso spoke authoritatively. “It is our job to keep her safe from any and all threats up to and including on the level of a great family regular. I will show you all the layout of this arena and the shortcuts in the event of a situation so that we can converge and subdue any potential threats. I have maps and postings for all of you,” he said as he began to pass out diagrams of the arena, “Above all, make sure nobody gets to the floor of the arena or the stage. Some of you are scouts, but tracking an intruder through a packed audience is extremely difficult with F-rank observers. We have had incidents before, so be on your guard. You will be compensated accordingly for this job. Are there any questions so far?”

        “Yes, I have one,” A green-haired regular, somewhere between lime and olive, raised his hand, though it was hard to hear him when his mouth was covered by a large black mustache, “When do we get to see Yura Ha?”

        “Hopefully, you won’t,” Alonso said. Depending on where you’re posted, you should be able to guard any undesirables from seeing her as well. Anyone caught abandoning their post will be dealt with  _ harshly _ .” He said firmly. The mustachioed regular who asked broke into a sweat stayed silent before Biff took over.

        “Now, everyone, on the day of the concert, all of y’all have gotta’ come see me. My power is to make these shinsoo beer cans, and when you drink ‘em, you get more powerful.” He conjured up another can of Bud Light and popped it open. “But the thing about these is that when you drink too much, you start gettin’ dizzy, so you’re only gonna’ get one of these. Use it when you need it. Now who wants a free sample!” He proceeded to chug a can casually before making a couple more and tossing them out to the regulars that raised their hands.

        After a few hours of touring, Biff and Alonso finally left for lunch after the other bodyguards had received their instructions. The sun was shining brightly, and Biff began to sweat in his new black suit provided by Alonso. It almost fit him! As they followed the sidewalk back to the road, they came across a familiar pair slouching on the curb. 

        “James! Slav!” Biff shouted and ran up to them, waving. Alonso took a breath and followed slowly. But the eagle and his friend remained motionless. Biff ran around to the other side, only to find two stale husks, their faces streaming with tears.

        “Biff…” James whispered.

        “Hey, uh… what’s up?” 

        “We lost it all,” Slav uttered.

        “We’re broke again,” James continued.

        “We… invested in…” Slav struggled to get out the words.

        “Great Family Massacre Insurance.” James finished. Slav broke down and sobbed, burying his face in his hands.

        “Right after it went public… The President was killed by a Khun!” Slav cried, “They shut the company down! We lost everything! Even the house!” 

        “The what?” Biff asked.

        “We bought a house.” James confessed.

        “Jesus…” Biff was lost for words.  _ These idiots _ . Looks like things would be up to him after all. “Hey, Alonso,” He said.

        “What?” Alonso said.

        “Do you uh… think we can put two more on the payroll?” 

        Alonso hesitated, examining them. Did these two really help take down a Princess of Zahard on the second floor? It didn’t make sense to him. But he didn’t think Biff was being dishonest. Finally, he answered, “If we must. But you’re responsible for them. Keep them posted up with you and use them at your discretion.” 

        “Wouldn’t have it any other way. I owe you one for this, man.” Biff thanked him. 

        Suddenly, a pink-haired girl waved from across the road. “Goslav?” She called out and ran over, “Goslav Yu, is that you?!” 

        “What…” Slav unburied his head as everyone looked over, exposing a golden-white robe stained with tears. He never thought he’d see a familiar face within the tower, “H-Hana? What in the tower are you doing here?”

        “I’m here to see the Yura Ha’s concert, of course! I’m a huge fan! Besides, I’m… kinda stuck on this floor,” The girl admitted awkwardly, clutching the sleeve of her white cardigan.

        “Same here,” Slav wiped his eyes and laughed, standing up to hug her.

        “Hey, uh, Slav,” Biff said, “Didn’t you say way back when that there was no girl?” He smiled and gave a wink through his sunglasses. He didn’t want to say anything, but honestly… Well, she was no Yura. And certainly no Darlene. One day he’d help Slav realize his full potential.

        “Goodness, Biff,” Slav chuckled, turning around and wiping his face with his sleeve, “This is my sister, Hana.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. Yes I did put in a Hana Yu cameo. No I am not ashamed.


End file.
